#and people are smiling at the fox and taking photos of it

[the-californicationist]

The Fox & the Hound (Ch. 01)

Inspired by a tag on @ceilidho's tumblr post reblogged by @garbagecompactor3263827 where Johnny wants to sink his teeth into a newbie porn star.

MDNI/18+ NO EXCEPTIONS

AO3 Link - Comments/Reblogs very appreciated

You watched him prep in the shared bathroom. People were bustling in and out, and a lighting manager was handing him a fresh razor, reaching over him for her films. He trimmed around his fat, flaccid cock with a practiced hand, getting the hairs just right. Part of you wished it was still the 80s when bush was en vogue . The rest of him remained furry, thankfully, and just as you were about to tend to your own garden, he caught you looking. That same glint in his eyes sparkled, like a hound that had spotted the writhing tail of its fox, ready to crack its bones in his huge maw. He’d been looking at you like that all day. He laughed, but he didn’t ride you for gawking. If anything, he looked a little relieved. What had you gotten yourself into?

Nothing had gone according to plan. This was your first real shoot, and the original actor who had set you up with this production company wasn’t even in the film. Film , your internal monologue chided you, it’s a porno, you filthy slut . Okay, a porn film. You’d sent nude photos here and there, and you’d even landed in Playboy as a back-page lube advert girl. It was a start. But, now, here you were about to shoot your first porno , and the only thing you knew about this guy was that he had fought for this part. 

He was beyond famous. You’d heard that Johnny Dangerous was the man of the hour, and that most of the girls who needed to boost their bankrolls called him up to ask him to co-star. You’d never even heard of him until today, and after hanging around the catering cart, you learned that he was the one who had paid actual money to star with you. 

It was probably some power play. Maybe it was your novelty. Banging the brand new porn actress must have been some sort of game. You didn’t care. This one gig was about to pay off your loans and buy you a brand new car all at the same time. You just needed to survive Mr. Dangerous. 

“Honey, are you comin’? We gotta shoot outside before the sun goes down.”

The voice came from the doorway, but you weren’t the honey, for once. They were talking to him. He didn’t answer. He just nodded, dismissing them, throwing his bright green swim shorts back on and rubbing the remainder of the oil into his broad chest. He was staring at you, biting hard at the inside of his cheek like he had a secret. Then, his expression became resolute, and he spoke to you softly, the way you do when you’re trying to coax a cat out from under a car,

“You gonna make it, lass?”

“Yeah,” you swiped on some waterproof mascara as an excuse to stare into the mirror and not at him, “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. That seems normal.”

“It is,” Johnny moved closer to you, fluffing his own eyebrows in the mirror right alongside you, “Very normal. I’ll take care of you, hen. Nothin’ to worry your wee head about.”

You smiled. You didn’t want to thank him, exactly, but you wanted to be nice. Cordial. Professional. 

It wasn’t very professional of you to stare at the way his cock bounced as he adjusted his shorts, though, was it?

Then, to your shock, he leaned down and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips, tasting your sticky, cherry gloss, and saying, 

"See you in a bit, bonnie. Gonna make you feel real good." 

You stopped. He was gone, and for the first time that afternoon, you were alone. He lingered in all of the cracks and crevices of you, though. Now that he had pressed his lips to you, the spell had begun, and you realized you’d be fucking this man for hours. You drank your water from your icy jug, trying to turn it into liquid courage.

“Okay, okay, uhh… cute, yeah. Love it,” the director, Mike, appraised you like he worked on an assembly line, swooshing you over to the diving board with his hand, clutching a venti Starbucks cup in the other, “You look great, babe. Go sit on the diving board and let’s do a little preamble. Feel yourself up, pretend that you’re sunbathing in Malibu and not fuckin’ Santa Clarita, mkay?”

You made your way over to the diving board, walking in a way that you assumed was sexual, making a sexual face, and moving your hands across your tits…sexually. You thought it was a fine job until you heard the cut whistle. 

Mike was behind four people, two cameras, and an iPad when he shouted at you again,

“This isn’t a goddamn church service, babe. C’mon. I get hard when Chuy over here drives too fast, and this is not doin’ it.” 

“Sorry,” you said, moving back to your mark, determined to be positively the sexiest sunbather he had ever seen. 

“Mikey,” you heard Johnny’s voice call out, “Lemme kick it off.”

“Shut up, Johnny. I can’t afford your extra minutes, you skank,” Mike laughed and sipped his triple caramel mochaccino. 

Johnny came out from his shaded tent and cut his eyes at Mike before staring right at you,

“No charge. Just want it to be right.”

“Ugh,” Mike rolled his eyes behind his too-small sunglasses, “You and your…” he used scare quotes, “... art . Fine. Whatever. I just don’t want to shoot in the goddamn dark, so hurry up.”

Johnny walked around the pool, stroking himself across his shorts to stay hard. He was so thick that it looked like he was petting a handle of vodka back and forth. You tried to control your face, but you were getting more and more nervous as he came closer and closer to you.

“C’mere, bonnie,” he pulled you up from the diving board and held you in his arms.

If it wasn’t for the twenty people sweating to death in black tech clothes and eating dried-out hummus from foam plates standing around you, you would have felt like you were at your high school formal, being cradled gently in hands that wanted to do so much more. 

“Eyes on me,” he whispered. 

You obeyed, for some reason. There was nothing else to do but obey him. 

When he bent to kiss you, you knew it was for the cameras, because the angle of his face was open and softly spread so that the way he sucked your lips into his mouth would be seen by A and B-roll film. You kissed him back, trying to turn the sexiness up to eleven, rubbing your hands on his rigid cock to appear wanton and needy. 

He shuddered, and you thought you’d done something wrong. The look in his eyes told a different story. They were feverish, daring, and his pupils were fully blown. You could smell the coconut sunscreen someone had applied to him, and you could feel his breathing quicken in his huge body. 

Mike’s nasally voice came over the speakers,

“Let’s get a boom in there and pick up some of the kissing noise, please. Also, Johnny, some of your famous accent there, baby. You know what the ladies like.”

You were being kissed again, now set up for everyone to hear. He was devouring you, and you tried to keep your footing, grabbing his hulking shoulders and running your hands across his hirsute form. His muscles rippled and stretched beneath your touch, and he spoke his lines,

“Thought you would sneak into my wee pool, did ya, hen?”

You gave your voice a high-pitched lilt,

“Yes, I just wanted to get nice and tan.”

“Aye?” He pulled the tie on your bikini top, “Wouldn’t wanna get any tan lines, huh?”

You shook your head no, kissing his bare chest and feeling the top slither off of you to hang around your waist. 

“Wow,” his voice had changed its timbre, “Look at these pretty tits. Jesus…”

Johnny brought his mouth down to your nipple and sucked on it, licking on your beaded nub until it tightened for him, making sure to allow the camera man a full view of your perky breasts as they filled his hands. 

You moaned, and then you remembered to moan the right way, high and whiny. The higher the pitch, the higher the profit, they’d said. 

Johnny stopped suddenly, looking you in your eyes,

“Go back, lass. The first way. Do it the first way.”

“Johnny!” Mike complained, “Do you wanna come sit in this fuckin’ chair, or are you gonna focus on gettin’ your fat dick wet? Stop directing mid-scene. Cut. Cut. Start over with the tit sucking, and we’ll take it from the top,” Mike changed the tone of his voice and smiled at you, “You’re doing great, babe. Ten outta ten.”

You felt Johnny move his mouth to you again, but this time, his eyes were watching you, looking at you and waiting for you to make a choice. He was eager to make you moan, sucking hard and then soft, letting his long tongue lave over you like an animal, nibbling at your skin and making your blood rush to the surface. 

You moaned for real, testing the waters. Johnny smiled so wide you could see his back teeth, his jaw open and parting to let his tongue come forward to do its work. 

“Tha’s it, hen. Lemme hear you.”

His enormous hand squeezed your other breast, and he moved his mouth between them, stirring up your pleasure like a whisk in cream. Soft peaks. 

You obliged. The more you moaned, the more he fondled. He was yanking at your strings and ripping the bikini from you quicker than you had assumed he would be, especially since you were still in the outdoor scene. Wasn’t this all supposed to be inside?

“Christ,” Mike groaned, “I look at my email for five seconds and you’re almost nose-deep in her asshole? Johnny, this was supposed to be at couch scene three. Can - hey! Can somebody get him a book?”

Someone handed him a book, and he tossed it in the bushes,

“I dinnae care if it’s scene five thousand, Mikey. Just shoot it vérité, mate. Just like old times,” Johnny barked. He was getting more and more ruffled as Mike kept cutting in, almost like he was impatient to be done with it. Done with you?  

Mike turned his head to his assistant and asked,

“How many minutes do we have? Are we good? Okay. Okay!” He threw up his hands, “Okay, Johnny, you prima donna bitch. Let’s take it inside.”

The Someone with the book now passed Johnny his robe and he shouldered it on. He looked around and barked again,

“Aye! Hers? Give it here.”

He then had your robe in his hands and put it over you, cloaking you in its soft terrycloth, making sure you were covered. It was such an abrupt stop to your pleasure, one that you were not used to making, and your body railed you for it. Your pussy throbbed, your nipples ached, and your belly was full of butterflies. He held your hand as you walked inside. Just as you were about to get into position four on couch three, he pulled you back, nodding up at Mike and his team of people.

“Okay, lets get lighting on couch scene three, Billy. Hey! Hotdog! I didn’t say pull the lamp. Put the lamp back. Thanks, my man. Two more clicks on the warm light. Okay, gross, one click. Perfecto.”

Mike’s head popped over his iPad,

“You lovebirds ready for scene three?”

“Hang on,” Johnny grumbled, removing his swim trunks and flip-flops. 

He positioned himself on the couch and spread his legs, jerking himself back to full hardness and staring right at you as he did so. 

“C’mon, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”

You made your way over to the couch and knelt down. You didn’t mean to, but you hissed when your knees hit the cold, hard tiles. 

“Sorry!” You whispered to him.

He took his hands off his cock and pulled you onto the couch with him,

“Here, bonnie girl. Like this instead, yeah?”

Johnny pushed himself out along the length of the couch so that you were both laying on it. You placed your knees on the arm of it, raising your bare ass in the air for B-roll shots, your face perfectly positioned at Johnny’s raging hard-on. It was massive up close. His plump head and thick rod had seemed normal in his huge hands, but now that your small fingers were wrapped around him, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

“Okay, fuck,” Mike smiled, drinking his coffee and nodding, “That’s hot. Good call, new girl. Smart.”

You smiled back at Mike, grateful for the praise, feeling like you were going to knock it out of the park. Then, Johnny’s cruel hand grabbed your hair and turned your head up to stare into his eyes. He grinned like a demon,

“You don’t have to smile at him, lass. He’s a fuckin’ bawbag.”

“JD! Can we get on with it?” Mike rolled his eyes. 

You got on with it. Something in Johnny’s demeanor had stirred a dark place in your belly. He was possessive, and he didn’t like you smiling at Mike. He did like the way you took each of his balls in your mouth and sucked on them with loose, pouty lips. His moans were cut short, not wanting to over-saturate the reel with male grunting sounds. Apparently, the straight male audience wasn’t a fan of anyone’s grunting but their own. 

He also liked when you tried to take him into your throat, moving your head as far as you could down his shaft, choking on his cock until you felt drool coat the inside of your mouth. You spit it onto him, and he wrenched his eyes shut, unable to watch you fuck your own face with his shaft. 

“Okay, while Johnny’s taking a nap or whatever that face is, let’s get B-roll in here for her mouth. Also, let’s take a minute or so of that gorgeous ass she’s got up there for us. That’s gonna be money, my friend. You are gonna be Miss Popular!”

In the place where you were staring before, Johnny’s face of agony and bliss, now there was a big, black lens. You could see yourself, bobbing up and down hungrily, and you pulled out all the stops. You suckled gently on his glans, lapping up his precome dutifully, enjoying it enough to moan again. 

He jumped, and Johnny’s hand snaked its way under the camera to squeeze the life out of his shaft. 

“Hey, mate, move to B-roll of her ass, would ya?”

The camera man laughed,

“About to lose it, Johnny? I thought she was the newbie.”

“Shut up, mate.”

You stayed stock still, watching as the camera moved to your rear end, feeling beyond exposed. You played with your pussy, spreading it open, fingering yourself, all of the things you were supposed to do. And, to be honest, it felt great. You needed to come so badly, a warm breeze would have been sexy to you at this point. 

Johnny stared down at you, his dick still in the prison of his fist, panting,

“How are we doin’, lass?”

“Good, you?” You appreciated the check-in. 

“Good. Ready to fuck you. So damn ready.”

His voice and his eyes were predatory. You felt like his prey. Prey had claws, too, though. So, you licked his shaft again, and you fed his own line back to him,

“I’m gonna come so fast. You’re gonna make me feel so good, baby.”

His face changed into a look of shock. Just then, Mike rang the bell,

“Alright, it’s couch doggy and - what does this say?”

“Light,” someone told him.

“Okay, light spanking? You okay with that new girl? It says you signed off on it.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. 

“Okie dokie, just checking. Sweet. Let’s get there.”

Johnny was standing at the arm of the couch, positioned behind you were you couldn’t see him. You felt his hands rub your cheeks and spread them wide, opening your core up to him. Then, that long tongue was lapping up your wetness, and he was talking with his mouth full,

“Mmf, so wet for me, lassie. That’s my good girl.”

Your pussy clenched and you knew he could see it. You thought he might laugh or make some other comment, but he kept your secret, licking the inside of you with soft, languid strokes, you gave him another clench - this time on purpose - waiting to see if you could rile him up again. 

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny moaned, “You’re so ready for me. Fuck me, wait.”

He stopped eating you out, which was the opposite of what you were going for. This shoot was a disaster, and you really needed this gig.

“I’m sorry!” You said, turning around.

“What?” His brow furrowed, “No, just wait. Mike!”

“What is it now? Johnny - this is why I didn’t call you about Manuel Ferrara’s gangbang.”

“I just need my bag.”

Mike’s sigh was theatrical,

“Everyone take five.”

The bell went off again. You sat on the couch and the same someone brought you your robe and a water. You smiled and thanked them. Johnny had disappeared, but when he came back, he was wearing a thick, black cock ring, tightly secured around his shaft and balls. 

“Okay,” he sighed, sitting by you on the couch, robeless.

“Are you alright?” You asked, offering him some of your water.

He took it, gulping down two huge swallows before responding,

“Aye, lass. Just had to stop myself from ending this show too soon.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise,

“I thought it was for the opposite reason. Must be hard to keep it up for such a long time, especially with all these breaks.”

He laughed,

“Usually, yeah. But, not today.”

His eyes were raking over you, still hungry for you even though he’d seen it all already. It would have been a lie to say you weren’t hungry for him, too. It was intoxicating, the way he stared at you, eager and joyful. You weren’t surprised he was so popular. 

“Annnnnd, we’re back, people! Baby, could you perch up there again, please? Now that Mr. Princess is done preening, we can shoot a fucking porno.”

You repositioned yourself back to where you were, and someone came by to re-oil your ass cheeks. They felt shiny, and you hoped you looked great. Watching the film was going to be humbling, but this was your first time and you were learning so much. 

Johnny took his place behind you, and you felt the familiar, heavy slap of a cockhead on your pussy lips, sticky and exciting. You gasped. He responded, 

“That’s right, hen. It’s time for your reward.”

He began to feed his head into you, and the crown of it popped into your hole with some resistance. Behind you, his thick fingers spread your cheeks apart, and you felt one hand leave just to return in a sharp smack. You cried out louder. He sank in a little deeper, moaning right along with you. He slapped your ass again and growled,

“Fuuuuuuck, that’s too tight, that’s too tight. Oh, Jesus.”

You keened, embarrassed, but unable to stop the noise that came out of your mouth. 

“You like it, lass? Gettin’ this pretty little cunt all stretched out for me. Gonna make you beg for this cock and only this fuckin’ cock, ain’t that right?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, your voice straining, “Only this cock, baby. Fuck me nice and hard.”

You regretted every word because he was pleased to oblige you. He slammed himself down into your aching hole, pressing through your walls, through your wetness and the oil and the lube, and it still wasn’t enough. You felt like you were tearing apart, especially when he pressed you onto his hilt. 

Everything slowed way down. You saw white, for a moment, and you felt tears well up in your eyes, burning on their way down your cheeks. He was trying to ease you though it, but you were coming on him. Your whole body was shaking and trembling, and his girth was forcing an orgasm to rattle through your core. You even felt him fighting to stay inside of you, battling against your tightening walls, desperate to keep his position, nestled at your womb, deep within you. 

“Oh, fuck! Lass! Holy God, that pussy is tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You felt him slap you again, but the sting was gone. Your body had flooded you with orgasmic endorphins and adrenilne, and it was going to take a lot more than a “light spanking” to get your attention away from the cosmic nova exploding in your belly. 

Johnny’s thrusts were that of a hungry beast. He didn’t falter, nor slow, nor stop to check and see if you were even still alive. He was chasing himself down inside of you like a dog with its tail. Over and over and over, you felt the heavy weight of him pushed forward, smacking into you, feeling his hips snap repeatedly spearing your core with his enormous rod. He was grunting with abandon now, just barking out cries along with you, and when you looked at him over your shoulder, his face was bent and twisted in such a rage that it frightened you. He looked inhuman.

Suddenly, you were lifted from the couch, and his hands were around you. He flipped you over and held your thighs pressed down to your chest, creating an even deeper angle. You regained your thoughts quickly enough to hold your legs pinned for him, only half-worried that you’d tumble off the couch. 

You weren’t sure it was possible though, since his grip on your waist was so punishingly tight. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that you were feeling it in your bones. Your hips were taking the brunt of his sex-fueled wrath, and you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow. 

Then, his fingers found your clit, rubbing accurate and pleasure-filled circles around and around, making your lips swell with intensity. You were going to come again, and you told him so,

“Johnny… you’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Come,” he snarled down at you, his eyes wild and haunted, “Come on me. I wanna feel you fuckin’ squeeze me out. Come. Come. Come, lass. Come for me, pretty girl. Oh! Oh, there it is. Yes, yes, yes, good girl. Good girl. Fuck!”

He rode you through your orgasm and stalled, leaving himself inside of your fluttering walls, basking in the sensation, trying to catch his breath. Johnny sat on the couch and you climbed into his lap, taking his cock in your hands and guiding it back into your dripping hole. 

“Bonnie,” he sighed, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass in both of his hands, “You feel like heaven. God, baby, don’t stop. Just like that, don’t stop.”

You were rocking back and forth on him, and you could feel his swollen head rubbing at the end of your pussy, bullying your cervix, making you feel too full. 

“It’s too much, baby,” you confessed, squishing your breasts together and letting him move his mouth across your nipples once again, “You’re too big. Filling me up… I’m so full.”

“You’re so tight, lass.”

He said it like a prayer. His eyes were glassy as they stared up at you. All of his bravado and flirtatiousness was gone, and it had been replaced by boyish wonder. It was as if it was his first time to feel the inside of a woman, to be hugged, warm and wet, engulfed in her core and playing within her the oldest song known to man. You sang it for him, not for profit anymore. His bewtichment was complete. You were totally and completely ensnared by him. 

Then, he held you to him, clutching you to his chest and screaming out loud, braying and writhing beneath you. He was coming. You felt him pulse, over and over, spilling and foaming and frothing around the edges of your hole, soaking you from the inside. 

You rode him slowly, back down from his high, and he gasped with every roll of your hips, looking at you in some sort of horrible ecstasy. 

Mike’s bell went off in your ear.

“Okay, folks! Thanks so much. Let’s wrap it. I’m sure some of this is salvageable. Johnny, and uh… whatever your name is, you still owe me garden scene six and upstairs… um, is it pool table? It’s pool table. Wanna be back here tomorrow at two?”

Johnny gave an exhausted thumbs up, and so did you, finally sliding yourself off of him with a wet milky sound. 

“Um,” you tried to catch your breath, “Thanks, for helping me today. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked at you quizzically, almost a little hurt. It was a confusing face to see, but you didn’t really know him that well, so you waited for his reply.

“Sure, bonnie.”

You untangled your legs from him and pulled on your robe, leaving him on the couch. You needed a shower and some brand of fast food, as soon as physically possible. 

The bathroom was steaming when you hopped in, and you were covered head to toe in coconut smelling soap when you heard a knock at the door. 

“Uh, come in?” You peeked around the glass partition.

It was Johnny. 

“Got room for one more, lass?”

You looked around behind him, half-expecting a camera to pop out. He noticed your reticence, and he shook his head,

“Nevermind. Forget I asked.”

“Hey, yeah. Sure, if you want. Come on in,” you moved deeper into the shower, letting him step into the billowing steam. 

At first, he was silent, just washing himself, scraping the suds over his body and sharing the water with you. But, then, he asked,

“Wanna get a bite? I’m starvin’ to death.”

“Me, too,” you laughed. 

“Class,” he smiled.

There was another long pause, and then when you turned off the water, he stepped into your space, too close to be friendly, 

“What if I was still hungry for you as well, hen? What would you say to that?”

The water dripped from the head of the shower in a soft tinkling pattern. You breathed each other’s breaths, inching closer and closer until your lips touched his wide chest, the hair smeared flat from the warm water, rivulets rushing down his belly to his crotch, dripping off of him and of you. 

You kissed his chest again, feeling him shudder under you as if he hadn’t just come inside of you minutes ago, packed with anxious excitement. 

Smiling up at him, you took a chance, 

“Your couch or mine?”

Chapter 02

[ceruleancattail]

*slams into your inbox and tosses this link down*

https://www.tumblr.com/ceruleancattail/748052645275631616/bsjudhdhsjisixjxjejeidkjx-ooh-ym-god-oh-my-god

EXCUSE ME??????? CERU????? GOOD GENTLEPERSON*?????

This!! That!! It!!

I like. <3

Can I has some more? ��

You said specific people so… I honestly can’t decide between Ace and Cater because I think both of their reactions would be ADORABLE in this situation 😭 And no, I didn’t just make Cater one of the options because it’s you.

So… writer’s choice! 💜

*I don’t know a gender neutral version of good sir/good lady so this is the best I could come up with helpppppp 💀💀💀

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA gentle person is a vibe nvm I’ll take it lolololol- ANYWAYS OOPS SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY LOLOLOL I PROMISE I WAS WORKING ON IT- also im sure cater is just there for no reason at all… yeah… I believe that… yeah….

Summoned for… Cuddles?

Mystic AU

Kitsune Ace x reader, Kitsune Cater x reader

Ace never likes to appear directly in front of you. It’s an annoying trait of his, really. As a prankster, he loves having you on your toes, glancing around the room all in a fluster. Before he pops into your blind spot, poking you playfully in the cheek. It’s like a little game he loves to play. Hide and seek, but he’s assured he’ll always win. Part of you feels like he craves the attention his antics bring him.

Fine, two can play this game.

Whispering his name, you sit yourself down, back against the wall. Gaze flickering from left to right, wary for any tell-tale sign of Ace. Your shoulders were hunched, ready to pounce whenever and wherever. Despite your caution, you allowed yourself one satisfied huff.

Let this sly fox try to catch you off guard now.

Yet you made one fatal mistake. You were so preoccupied with the area you could see, you never considered another angle: above.

You felt something soft graze against your cheek, before a scarlet mop of hair dropped into your vision. Widening your eyes in shock, your gaze met a pair of crimson irises, narrowed in a dastardly smugness. Ace Trapola, your familiar. Hanging from mid air, a boyish grin stretched across his lips. Lowering a hand, he taps the very tip of your nose playfully, snickering all the while.

“Nice try, Master. But as I always say, the stories always have one sly fox…”

Before he could complete your sentence, you rushed forward. Pressing your lips into his, feeling the warmth of Ace’s breath waft onto it. Face flushed bright red, you give him a quick little peck on the lips, before pulling away immediately.

In the midst of all your embarrassment, you mustered up the most confident smile you could, before grinning right back at Ace.

“Who’s the dumb bunny now, huh?”

For a moment, Ace’s face froze. Before a fiery scarlet spread across his face, a raging inferno. He opens his mouth, only for the words to come out in stutters and mutters. It takes a few shaky breaths for Ace to finally regain some illusion of normalcy, yet the pink on his cheeks lingered.

His fingers grazed the bottom of your chin, stroking the curve of it ever so softly. Tenderly, the touch of a lover’s gentle hands. Ace lowers himself to your position, before he flashes you another fanged smirk:

“Now, I’m not too sure about that, Master.

I think I need another kiss to decide, yeah?”

Cater doesn’t usually need to be summoned. He seems rather content tagging around behind you, grinning away like a cunning fox. Compared to the others from the Heartsabyul clan, he seems the most in touch with modern day society.

At least, he uses your phone with more skill than you ever will. Stretching the phone, his tails wrapping around your waist, dragging you into frame whenever he can. Cater looks at you expectedly after every shot, waiting for your thoughts on them. If you say they’re nice, he’s beaming away for the rest of the day, his smile as radiant as any diamond in this world.

Cater’s fond of taking photos, and he shows you each and every one. You’re not too sure why, but there was something endearing about the passion he puts into every shot. Sometimes, he’ll travel insanely far just for one photo. You admire that determination, of course.

Just that…. Sometimes you feel lonely.

Pressing your hand into the floor, you whisper his name. Only to have something warm curl under your chin, gently coaxing it upwards ever so slightly. You came face to face with your familiar’s ever so familiar smiling face, shining right at you.

It wasn’t blindingly bright, like the sun’s harsh golden rays. No, it was the quiet radiance of the moon, gently illuminating the night. A soft, calming sort of aura that immediately comforting your pinning soul.

Cater drops into a squat, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left inquiringly. His eyes follow, flopping over to the left as well. A rather comical sight… yet it still was adorable, though.

“What have ya’ called me for, Master? Did you miss me? Just kidding-“

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you hold him tenderly, a small smile slipping across your lips.

“Yes. I did miss you, Cater.”

He blinks, surprised. Before he lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze softening. His hand gently presses into the back of your palm, holding it in place. Nuzzling into your hand, Cater heaves a sigh of relief. Melting into the warmth of your very touch.

“I missed you too, master dear .

Very, very much.”

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 9.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Vixen definitely loves cuddles, so much so, she might be late to an important event. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 34: You Belong to Me

You opened your eyes sharply, as you tried to figure out where the hell you were. The smell surrounding you doing a brilliant job at grounding you, that was a dream, this was reality. However, being nuzzled in between Sirius and Remus did feel like a dream. 

That must have been the third time you had that creepy excuse of a dream. You could barely see anything but you could feel the angst, you could hear sobs and cries and you were in a place you had never been, a big house, or some kind of manor perhaps. You had no idea what the hell it was about but it gave you the irk, so waking up beside your two favourite people on earth had been oddly comforting. 

That being said, Remus and Sirius were squeezing you in between the two of them, a little too tight for your still-healing arm to handle. You tried to wriggle your way out of the two, only to realise Sirius had his hand on top of you, holding you like he would hold a plushie dragon. That’s how you realised you were still Vixen, and wriggled your way out however you could. Carefully crossing over Remus’ chest until you were on the other side of the bed, looking at the boys curiously as you realised Sirius wasn’t Padfoot anymore. He was himself, and not only that, but he was cuddling Remus. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, you weren’t sure if you had ever laughed as a fox before, you didn’t even know foxes could laugh, and yet you were there, softly giggling at your boyfriend cuddling your best friend. You leapt down from the bed and started looking under it. Remus was awfully tidy, with all his stuff neatly tucked into boxes, you knew he had a camera somewhere, a Polaroid you had seen him carry around every now and then, so you sniffed around a couple of the boxes until you felt the peculiar smell of chemicals that polaroid pictures always had. 

At that moment, you turned back, muffling an “ouch” with your hand over your mouth when your head bumped into the top part of the bed. You winced and turned your head to the side as you held your breath. After a full minute where there didn’t seem to be any stirring on the bed at the top, you sighed and crawled back from under it. Letting yourself lay on the floor, head looking up for a minute before you stood again. Your heart, warming as you stared at the two boys cuddled up against each other. 

You brought the camera up to your face, and found the shot button, briefly remembering the day Remus had taught you how to use it. You smiled at the memory and positioned the camera and pressed the button. A flash came from its side, and there was a rather loud clicking sound before the camera’s photo started to come out the side. You cursed yourself for not using a silencing spell and looked to the sides hoping you hadn’t woken anyone up. Only then realising how late it must have been since Peter and James were already soundly sleeping on their beds. 

You were watching the clock when you heard the bedsheets ruffle right beside you. “What the hell are you doing, Starshine?” 

You turned back to your boys only to find Sirius looking up at you with sleepy eyes. He was unfairly pretty, which was distracting enough for him to lay his hand on the other side of Remus and prompt himself to snatch the picture of your hand. 

Your eyes widened in shock as you quickly left the camera on the side and went to the bed, trying to snatch the picture back “Sirius, give me that!” You whisper shouted. 

“No-uh, I wanna see what you picture you were taking,” he said as he moved to the side of the bed he had been in. The bed wasn’t small, but it wasn’t particularly big either, Remus’ broad shoulder occupied a good bit of it and while you managed to lean your knees near it to try and get to Sirius, you were also trying to be careful enough not to wake up the other boy. 

“Sirius, please.” 

Sirius arched an eyebrow at you, the picture hadn’t fully developed either. “Something tells me you were taking a picture against my consent.” 

“You have taken pictures of me against my consent, you hypocrite!” 

Sirius shrugged, “But you’ve never complained about it.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, looking at Remus one last time before placing your hand next to his shoulder and kneeling towards Sirius. “It’s my photo!” you said as you tried to snatch it away again, but Sirius only had to move his hand to the side and it was out of reach. “Sirius.” 

“I’ll see it and then give it back,” he said. You threw him a look. “I promise.” 

You sighed, he turned the photo around and stared. You looked at him, instead of the picture, hoping he wouldn’t get mad. Although knowing Sirius, he was more likely to make a dirty joke about it. 

But a few minutes passed and he didn’t say a word “Sirius?” you asked carefully “Are you mad?”  

No, Sirius Black wasn’t mad, he was in panic. The first thing he noticed when he saw the picture, had obviously been Remus, how peaceful he looked, how handsome he looked. Which made him rethink his wording. Since when do I think of Remus as handsome? he wondered. Regardless there was no other way to define him. There was something about his closed eyes, his strong and yet delicate features, his light brown lashes brushing over his cheeks, his slightly parted– his fucking mouth. Sirius was thinking of Remus’ mouth again. 

Which would have been fine if he hadn’t been thinking of the boy’s mouth in the same way he often thought of yours. Yes, Remus was handsome as fuck while he was asleep, but it was when Sirius noticed the other subject of the photo, that the panic increased. It was himself, but he was all tangled over Remus, his head laying on the boy’s broad shoulder, his arm draped across his torso, he was pretty much cuddling his friend.

And the worst part was, he was comfortable, he looked comfortable, he felt comfortable, and… comforted. He had no idea how it looked when he cuddled you but he assumed it was in a similar manner, or rather, that’s how you looked when you cuddled against him. Sirius looked as drawn to Remus Lupin as he looked drawn to you. I’m fucked. 

“Sirius?” 

He turned to you, “The picture is frozen.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “It’s a muggle camera, I was planning to charm it later.” 

“Is that what Remus does with all the photos he takes of us?” 

You nodded, “He taught me how to do it too.” 

“I look handsome.” 

You stifled a laugh, “You always do.” 

He turned to you, an amused smirk on his face as he placed the picture in his pocket “Oh, do I?” 

You ignored his flirty question. “You promised you’d give it back.” 

“Changed my mind,” he said. “We look way too handsome,” he added. “Who knows what sorts of dirty thoughts it might spark from you.” Perhaps similar to my own. 

You rolled your eyes, about to complain again when you felt movement, movement neither of you had caused. The two of you looked at each other with eyes wide before turning to look at Remus, he stirred, closing his mouth and turning his head a little to the side before wrapping one of his arms around your leg. You turned to Sirius, who looked diverted at the sight. 

“My picture,” you insisted, once Remus seemed to be back in deep sleep, his strong grip was oddly comforting. 

“It’s mine now,” he said simply, he wanted to keep the photo, he wasn’t even sure why, “Let’s go back to sleep.” 

You frowned, and moved your leg, realising you wouldn’t be able to lay on the bed and then remembering you were supposed to be there as Vixen, and that the whole reason you were sharing a bed with Remus was because of the scent thing. Fuck, had that been awfully easy to forget. “You’re supposed to be a dog.” 

“And you’re supposed to be a fox.” 

“You turned back first. I realised when I woke up.” 

Sirius frowned, “Yeah, why did you wake up? You said you weren’t having nightmares about…” he gestured at Remus, “anymore.” 

You sighed, “They’re not about him,” you said, “and you were squeezing my shoulder.” 

His gaze instantly fixated on your shoulder “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You shrugged. “It’s more itchy than painful at this point,” you admitted.

“And the nightmares?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said before turning back into a fox. Sirius looked at you with a bit of a frown. You were accommodating yourself in the spot between Remus’ arm and his torso, rolling over yourself as you averted Sirius’ piercing gaze. 

“Stubborn little fox,” he said looking at you and turned back into Padfoot, using his snout to pull you by biting onto your skin softly and placing you on Remus’ chest. You looked like you were about to protest but Padfoot huffed as if to remind you that the whole reason you were there had been to rub Remus’ scent on you. 

You gave him a look but decided to get comfy, Remus’ chest was warmer than the bed anyway. And Vixen liked being around Padfoot a little too much as well. When Pads noticed how comfortable you looked, he nudged you on the side playfully, you turned to look at him before he nudged you again. Sirius wanted to make sure you were all right, he loved you, but sometimes you were too closed off, too self-sacrificing for him to be able to comfort you. How could he hug you and tell you that everything would be alright if you insisted on hiding the things that worried you from him? Of course, he was no better. 

When Padfoot nudged you yet again, you figured he was being overly playful, but you weren’t all that eager to go back to sleep so you decided to indulge him. You waited, and when he tried to do it again, you went straight to softly bite the side of his face. He was taken aback by that, and nudged you again, a lot stronger this time around having you roll off of Remus’ chest and onto the side of the bed. Padfoot went straight for Vixen’s stomach, and you kept trying to push him off with your smaller paws. You even bit his ear, a little too harsh and he whined. You pulled back surprised as the large dog stared at you reproachfully. You were about to turn back to check if he was alright when you felt a strong hand tighten around you while a different hand pulled Padfoot back from you by the skin of the nape of his neck. 

“Either the two of you behave, or you’ll be sleeping on the floor,” Remus said sternly, eyes still closed. Padfoot whined again but Remus pulled on him a little harder and he shut up. You lifted your head to see Pads reclining his head against Remus’ shoulder, as he had done earlier, when he was a human rather than a dog. His snout was pretty much buried against the back of the boy’s ear, breathing in the smell of Rem, intoxicating as it was.

Remus, still half asleep, and not quite minding having Padfoot’s dangerously large fangs so close to his face turned his head to you “You staying there darling?” he asked softly. Padfoot made a sound that resembled a scoff obviously complaining about how much softer Remus had been with you. 

You, still rather unsure, peered your head from the spot you were lying on, Padfoot moved his head to pat Remus’ chest, and you instantly understood what he meant. You carefully moved over, your small paws settling over his strong torso before eventually dropping back down on his chest. You felt Padfoot’s snout veer closer towards you, nudging you softly before going back to his spot almost next to Remus’ head. 

Remus placed his hand over you again, petting and scratching you softly. His strong and yet soft hand, along with the way his chest would move up and down softly, had you fall back asleep a lot faster than you expected you would. At least a lot faster than it would normally take you to sleep after waking up from a nightmare. 

Sunday, December 5th, 1976

You woke up to a hand shaking you softly. You opened your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light only to spot James looking at you as if he wanted to wake you up but at the same time was too scared to get accidentally bitten again. He placed his hand on his mouth and pointed your way. 

You turned to look only to realise both Remus and Pads were still asleep, when you looked back at James, he was moving his head to the side as if telling you to come with. You turned one last time, you had been awfully comfortable, but James’ face looked like whatever the hell he wanted was urgent. So you stood and carefully walked off of Remus’ chest. 

James gave you a look and extended his hands. You narrowed your eyes at him and then nodded and he took you in his hands, grabbing onto you and dropping you on Sirius’ bed, which was far away enough from the sleeping boys not to wake them. Besides, James was pretty sure that Remus’ silencing spell would do the rest of the job. 

You turned back, shortly after, blinking as your human eyes got used to the light. James was kneeling close to the bed and looking up at you. “How was your night?” He asked with a teasing smile. “See you’ve stolen not one but two marauders so far. Is Peter next?”

You must have made a funny-looking face as you involuntarily scrunched your nose since James started laughing. “Didn’t Pete tell you? it’s about the scent of the pack,” you explained as you attempted to straighten your scrunched-up uniform, “What time is it?” 

“Eleven,” he responded. “The scent of the pack?” 

You huffed, being slightly bothered that you’d have to explain it again, but did anyway. 

“And you left me out?” James looked at you with his mouth agape, as if he was genuinely offended. 

“James, you’re huge!” 

“That’s what she said,” he intervened, not even thinking about it and you almost punched him. 

“Prongs wouldn’t have fit on the bed. If you wanna cuddle them both you’re more than welcome but I don’t wanna get poked by an antler.”

“I wouldn’t poke you!” he defended. 

You just rolled your eyes. “Next time we make a cuddle session I’ll tell you about it, how does that sound?” James didn’t quite seem satisfied about it, especially since you had used an awfully condescending tone but nodded in the end.  “Why am I awake?” 

“Oh right! Nox was looking for you at breakfast. He asked me if you’d be playing.” 

You gasped, “What time did you say it was?” 

“Eleven, the game probably just–” 

James’ voice trailed off as you grabbed your shoes and started walking outside “Thanks for the heads up, Prongs!!” 

When the door shut behind you, James nodded. “I was gonna come with, but whatever,” he said as he stared at the door. He then grabbed his broom and opened the door. When you walked down the stairs, exactly 6 minutes later with a long sleeve blouse, your quidditch pants and some protective gear, James was already waiting for you by the portrait. 

“Prongs, fancy seeing you again.”

“I was gonna tell you I was coming when you shut the door on my face.” 

“I’m fucking late mate.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware… You’re not wearing a sweater.” 

“No time.” 

“It’s cold,” He pointed out. 

“I’ll cope. James, are you coming or what?” You asked as you finished sliding your boot on. “Accio Dark Nimbus!” 

Your broom flew from your dorm and towards your hand.

“She’s back?” James asked as he saw you walk out with her in your hand. 

“Yeah, got it in the mail 2 days ago. It was already in my room when I woke up.” 

“And have you tested it?” He asked, both of you stepping out of the tunnel and towards the hall. 

“I’m about to,” you said with a smile as you started running towards the closest window. 

James looked at you with a mortified expression, “I cannot express how stupid that is! And I’m the king of doing stupid and unsafe things.” 

“We don’t have a game in like… months, chill,” you said as you mounted the broom.

“Yeah but we’re still like 10 floors up in the–” You had already taken off. “Fucking hell, Vixen, if you die, I’ll fucking kill you!” You turned to James with a smile and winked his way before flying away towards the training grounds. James huffed as he saw you go. “How the hell did she wake up with so much energy?” 

To be fair, you didn’t know how exactly you had done it either. Not that you were scared of the broom, Nimbus had sent you pretty much an entirely new broom, or at least an entirely new handle. And they mentioned it had been tested with the same rigorousness  as any new broom. They had charged a good deal for the repairs too. 

But that definitely had nothing to do with how energetic you felt, could have been because of how well you had rested that night, being surrounded by such a warm and comfortable environment. You wondered if it would be too weird to sleep over with Remus and Padfoot more often. It probably is, you thought as you descended on the field as fast as possible. 

Your cheeks were pink from the cold, as you looked at Nox with a worried expression on your face. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I’ve got no excuse, I’m a terrible person.” 

The last thing you wanted was for people to think you were some kind of diva that arrived whenever the hell she wanted to previously stated reunions. Of course, Nox and Neil knew you weren’t like that, since you had always been on time to the reading club reunions but you weren’t sure for the rest. 

“Don’t worry, we’re still waiting for Minho,” Nox said with a shrug.

“Minho? I thought Alex was playing.” 

“I am,” said Alex from behind, you almost jumped but smiled when you spotted him, giving him a quick hug, “So I wasn’t that late in the end,” you said as you breathed out. 

“Minho will be the referee,” Neil said as he approached and greeted you. “Lemme introduce you to the rest of the team,” you nodded as you waved Alex a quick goodbye as he walked towards his own team. 

“All right, guys, she made it,” Nox said with a smile. 

“This is Solacis,” Neil said as he pointed at a blonde boy who had a Slytherin quidditch sweater on “He’ll be a beater.” 

You extended your hand, noticing the way the sweater fitted him a little tightly, he must have borrowed it from someone. Regulus, you realised when you got a whiff of something that smelled just slightly similar to Sirius, “You were brilliant on last week’s game,” you complimented. 

Solacis, who wasn’t at all expecting a compliment, and who’d heard a lot from you from both Nox and lately Regulus, blushed. You almost raised an eyebrow at that, shy Slytherins weren’t something you saw very often. “Thanks,” he muttered, and you gave him a short nod. 

“You know Comet,” Nox said, “she’ll play beater too.” 

“Annie Doxon, she’s playing Chaser,” he said as she pointed at a small red-head that looked an awful lot like Beth. 

“I’ve heard lots of you from Peter, though he never mentioned you played quidditch,” you said as you greeted the small Ravenclaw. 

“I don’t do it much, Nox convinced me because I’m really fast at flying.” 

“And this is Fawn,” Nox said pointing at a brown-haired girl, “she’ll be our seeker.” 

The girl stepped forward and greeted your hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said with a smile “I’ve been watching your games rather closely, you looked slightly strained last game, are you alright?” You raised your eyebrows at that, not being sure what to respond as you continued to shake her hand. 

“She sometimes speaks too much,” Neil said as he placed his hand on her shoulders and gave her a look, “She’s my cousin.” 

“Well there’s no–” 

“Does your arm hurt by any chance?” She asked you again. “I’ve looked through some quidditch-related injuries and it could have to do with one of your backflips. I’ve seen you practise them with Potter and Black, maybe you were overexter–” 

“Fawn!” Neil reprimanded, looking at her in a rather stern manner that had you laugh. 

“It’s okay Neil, I don’t mind.” You turned back to her. “You’re very observant,” you said, “but the strain in my arm is due to something entirely different, I got myself into a bit of mischief and had to pay for it.” 

She looked at you as if she was both surprised and amazed that she’d gotten that right, ready to say “I told you so” to her cousin when Nox turned to you a little concerned. “What do you mean the strain in your arm? Are you still hurt?” 

You shrugged “It’s nothing,” you responded, “It’s a lot better now, anyway.” 

“Should have told us,” Neil said with a shrug.

“Is that way Sirius didn’t want you to play beater?” Nox intervened.  

“Yeah, but he was exaggerating.” 

Neil raised an eyebrow, he knew Sirius was dramatic, the entire school did, but Nox had told him how he had stared at him when he asked you to play, he thought it might have been because he was jealous, which he thought was ridiculous. Not to say Nox wasn’t attractive but compared to Sirius Black? Please. Barely 3% of the school would be an actual match against the Black’s handsome genes. In the end, it turned out Sirius wasn’t jealous, at least not of Nox, he was just being protective. 

And to be fair, Neil didn’t blame him, you were one to leap towards danger rather than away from it, he had noticed the more you hung out with them in the reading club. That and well, just as you were lucky to have Sirius, the boy was lucky to have scored a girl like you. 

“Are you sure?” Nox asked, feeling a little guilty now, fearing he might have pressured you. 

“Positive,” you replied with an air of finality. “You’d make a good quidditch commentator,” you said to Fawn who beamed at the compliment as if that was exactly what she wanted to do.

“Ugh, please, she’ll be talking about this the entire week,” Neil said as he placed his fingers to his temples. 

“You’re just jealous,” Fawn replied with a shrug, “Now, let me tell you who we’re going up against,” she said as she placed her arm over your shoulder, careful not to touch the shoulder she had mentioned to be strained. “That over there is Johnny Ackley, you might have heard of him?” 

“The entrepreneur?” You asked, remembering his illegal brewery and the pins with your face on it. 

She laughed at that. “Precisely, he’ll be the other team’s chaser.” She now pointed at a tall boy with bright blue hair “That’s Archer Reed, he’s a Metamorphmagus, so is his sister, Laurie,” she pointed at a smaller girl with pink hair. “She’s young, but Archer has been playing quidditch with her since he got a broom in his hands, they’re both brilliant.” 

“Why aren’t they on their teams?” 

“Laurie wants to wait until she’s in 4th to apply, Archer does not give three fucks about being on the team, he just likes playing. And he also wants to be an Auror, like really bad, so he’s pretty focused on his studies. Like your best friend Remus.” 

You turned to her surprised, it’s not that your friendship with Remus was a secret, you might as well be glued by the hip, but being told about it by someone you just met was rather shocking. As you looked at Laurie, you noticed her short pink hair turn into a mass of black straight hair that she tied with a ponytail at her back, making her look fierce. Her brother on the other hand, looked bright and cheerful with his blue hair and eyes that seemed to glimmer and change as he talked to Alex. 

“That’s incredible!” you said amazed. 

“Oh yes, Laurie is incredible,” Fawn agreed.  “She’s in my transfiguration class, we’re good friends.”

“Isn’t she younger?” 

“Yeah, she’s on 3rd, but since she has, you know, a special talent, she takes that class with us.” You gave her an impressed look and then she pointed at another girl, she had short light blonde hair “Harriet Fennel,” She said “She’s all right, I’ve seen her play a couple of times, she’ll be a beater today, we don’t have to worry too much about her.” You nodded at her explanation, almost feeling a bit bad for Harriet who clearly wouldn’t “make the cut” on Fawn’s team. 

“And their last chaser?” 

Fawn smiled and pointed at a girl sitting on a nearby bench, she had beautiful black and blonde braids cascading down her back, you were sure you had seen her before, probably in the Great Hall, or perhaps at a quidditch game. “That’s Dorcas Meadows,” she said, “She’s brilliant and fierce, she was asked to play with the Holyhead Harpies last year but she declined since she has her eyes on another team.” 

You looked at her clothes, spotting a small pin on her shirt, “the Tutshill Tornados,” you said. 

Fawn nodded, seemingly impressed at your deduction skills, “Yes, she is someone we should worry about.” 

You nodded, “Why isn’t she in the Slytherin team?” 

“Left them last year after she had a huge fight with Dmitry,” the girl replied with a shrug. “She didn’t agree with how permissive he was with the rest of the team and their fouls.” 

“Most of them are really good players,” you said as you stared at the kids you’d be playing against. “I thought it was just a friendly game.” 

Fawn laughed, “We wouldn’t have recruited you if it was just a friendly game, and we too have brilliant players. You’ve seen Solacis play, yeah?” You nodded “He always plays with Nox, just for fun. Comet has a great arm and Neil could easily make the team if he wanted to.”

“He doesn’t?” You asked. 

“No he does not,” Neil said as he walked next to the two of you, “I’ve got enough on my plate as is, I don’t feel eager to wake up at 5 am just to practise flying like other people do,” he said as he pointed at you.

“It’s about relaxing!” You responded with a huff, Neil and Nox had been teasing you about it for a while. Neil just laughed and nodded, rather condescendingly. He’d have a field day with Lily, who also teased you over your morning flights. Even saying it was just an excuse to spend more time with Sirius. Which wasn’t, that had just been an added bonus. 

“Vixen, you’re fucking insane!” James said as he finally managed to catch up with you. “Why the hell did you–” James finally noticed you weren’t actually alone, “Oh, hey guys!” he said with a charming smile when he spotted them. 

You raised an eyebrow at his extra quick change of demeanour, “I see how it is, Prongs,” you said with a huff. 

“Well I’m sorry, but last time I checked your friends here didn’t jump off the fucking Gryffindor tower with an untested broom.” 

“It was tested at the factory!” You said. Fawn, who had a small obsession with James, was absolutely fascinated with the interaction. She knew you were friends, but seeing the two of you bickering so naturally, made James seem slightly more approachable and less like the superstar she perceived him as.  James was about to say something else when you decided to use his natural friendliness against him. “James, this is Neil Perry, Neil this is James, I’ve been meaning for you two to meet each other.” 

James and Neil smiled and shook hands, their expressions mirroring each other almost perfectly, you thought it was incredible how two people who didn’t even know each other could be so alike, and yet so different at the same time. Neil was always reading something, James didn’t even know what Lord of the Rings was until you told him about it. 

You then introduced James to Nox and to Fawn, who laughed rather nervously as they shook hands, you realised she probably had a crush on him and almost felt bad for the poor girl. There was no way in hell James would ever change his mind about Lily, Fawn knew, and even then, it just made her admiration for the boy grow. 

Nox, Neil, James, and Fawn were having a fascinating discussion about their favourite Quidditch Teams when a familiar face showed up. You smiled, waving at him from a distance. Minho had his Quidditch sweater on, sporting his house colours proudly as he speed walked towards everyone. 

“‘M sorry I’m late,” he said, he had a bit of a dishevelled stance, and you frowned, “I was helping a friend study and we got carried away.” 

Minho was flushed, he had clearly just plopped that sweater on, and perhaps it wasn’t because he wanted to wear his house colours proudly but rather, because he wanted to hide his crumpled-up shirt underneath.

You walked close to him with a knowing smirk, “What friend did you say you were with again?” 

“Tom,” he said slightly dismissively, not quite realising he hadn’t mentioned Tom originally.

“Oh I bet you got really distracted then,” you smiled, Minho half scowled at you, “I mean it, I’ve studied with Tom, he can be a laugh sometimes.” 

James was nodding in agreement as Minho looked at you in disbelief. No one seemed to understand your teasing, which you expected, that didn’t stop Minho from shoving you off slightly while you laughed.

“That’s all of us, isn’t it?” Dorcas asked, approaching your small group. “Are you guys ready?”

She was at least a head taller than you, and her skin glistened with the sun, you thought that, if Nike the Goddess of Victory looked like anything or anyone, it would be like Dorcas. 

You looked at Neil and nodded, the rest of the team started to gather around. “Captains, shake hands,” Minho said, in a very serious tone, both Neil and Dorcas stepped forward and did as told. They were both smiling. 

There was none of the tension that you could almost cut during the quidditch games, no house pressure and all that stuff and yet, both of them smirked at each other as if they knew they had arranged an incredible team. It made you almost happier  to be playing with them. It’s not that the competitiveness was gone, you knew Neil, he was always rushing against Nox to finish a book first. You tried joining in once but you were no match, they were both incredibly fast readers. 

And Dorcas, well… there was something in the predatory way she looked at the teams as if she was aching to play against yours and claim victory for herself. You instantly liked her. 

“Good, on your brooms,” Minho roared, you hovered right above the ground, forming a triangle with Annie and Nox. Neil had already flown all the way to the hoops, Solacis and Comet were just above you, bats held tight in their hands, mirroring the formation of the other teams. 

You were thankful James had forced you and Sirius to practise for all positions on morning flights, or you would have been a bad choice to play chaser against Dorcas, Alex and Johnny. 

“James, mate, would you mind some help?” Minho asked as he leaned onto the boy who was just standing there looking rather excited about the game. Everyone knew he loved Quidditch, but James might have been more excited than even you at that point, he had a huge smile on his face and seemed to almost be holding a breath. 

“Of course,” He said as he leaned over the chest with all the balls, and used his wand to open it. James looked at Minho as if expecting for a sign, the boy looked at everyone, making sure they were all on their spots before he nodded. James unfastened the bludgers and they went up in the sky. He took the snitch and allowed its small wings to unfold in between his fingers, smirking towards it as if greeting an old friend. 

While still holding the snitch in between his thumb and index, he grabbed the Quaffle with his free hand and threw it Minho’s way, since the start of the game was his responsibility. The two of them looked at each other, and in seconds, Minho was throwing the Quaffle into the air, at the same time that James loosened his grip on the snitch and allowed the golden little ball to fly up into the air. 

Both you and Dorcas launched straight for the quaffle, and you managed to snatch it by a hair, but she was trailing behind you as you sped towards their goal. Although, perhaps trailing wasn’t exactly the term you’d use, she was almost flying by your side when you threw the quaffle towards Nox, who was a few feet back but had no one trailing behind him.

Dorcas gave you a wink before flying up and flipping around to chase behind Nox, but he had already passed the quaffle over to Annie, who was speeding towards the goals, but threw the ball your way, you had to duck out of the way of a bludger thrown at you by Archer and managed to score on one of the side hoops, cheers erupting from your team and some spectators that had gathered around the pitch.

James was there, cheering as if it were watching his favourite team playing and you smiled, the boy really is passionate about quidditch. This game might have been one of the games in which you had the most fun. Even if you were playing against the other team, and even if some of the players were clearly competitive, they were all really friendly to each other regardless. 

Harriet, from the other team, had been really close to throwing you off your broom when you weren’t looking, and you were saved by the hair when Solacis stepped in and batted the bludger to the side towards Dorcas. The girl had winced and screamed sorry in a friendly way before going back to the game. And when you thanked Solacis, he simply said: “No problem.” 

You were in awe by how much more friendly all the players were than at the normal games, and you were truly having lots of fun. Not that normal games weren’t fun, you loved flying either way, but the friendly environment was as exhilarating as the cheers of a crowd on the real games. You were thinking that you’d join their unofficial games a lot more often when you heard Nox scream your way. 

You turned just in time to catch the quaffle in your hands and fly as fast as you could towards the other team’s goal. You were really close but Johnny had flown right in front of you and while had a 50% chance of dodging him, you decided to play team and threw the ball Annie’s way and seconds later she scored, earning your team yet another 10 points, which instantly tied you with the other.

The game had been extra tight, so far Solacis and Comet being as fierce at batting as they were at defending their teammates, and you could tell Comet had kept an extra eye on you which you had been pretty thankful for. She had overheard Fawn talk about your arm injury and made a mental note to ask you about it later, you didn’t know of course, but the fact that you were already pretty good friends was enough to make you think that was the main reason she stayed rather close. Not to mention that she had gone around and thrown the quaffle towards Dorcas and the other chasers several times, she was good.

In fact, you weren’t even sure if it was her or Solacis the one that had thrown the ball towards Johnny’s broom and caused him to spin over like a spinning top for almost a whole minute. He had to land and ended up puking, being replaced by James after everyone welcomed him. Not that the boy hadn’t been aching to play already. 

Now, having James on the other team had been more than hilarious, he was as good of a chaser as anyone, but since you were on much more friendly terms with him than anyone on the other team, you had gone all out and chased after him every single time he had the Quaffle on his hands. Even committing some friendly faults like pushing him to the side to get him to throw the ball while Nox caught it. 

“Oi!” he complained the first time, but soon enough he had been playing just as roughly with you. If Minho had seen the several faults you had committed, he didn’t bother to stop them. Especially when Alex, Dorcas, Nox and Annie decided to join in the fun. 

At this point, the quidditch you were playing might as well have been a rugby game from how savage it was getting; Remus had told you about Rugby a while ago, he had been looking at a magazine about it and you asked him. He even told you about his favourite teams and explained that his mom had been a huge fan and that she had dated a rugby player before meeting his dad. You didn’t know much about Hope Lupin, but that was enough to convince you that you’d have to meet her one day. 

At some point, you were so busy trying to push Dorcas off her broom with a knock of your shoulder that you didn’t even realise you were both flying straight towards the bleachers until you crashed against them with a loud thud. You were laughing like a mad woman when you spotted a familiar head of black hair in front of you looking concerned. 

“Are you all right?” 

You just laughed further, you had managed to break enough to not actually crash but rather land disgracefully. Your broom was still in your hand as you tried to get a hold of your thoughts “Yeah Reg, I’m fine,” you managed to say in between laughs. 

Had you realised Reggie was watching the game before that point? No. Did you mind that he was? No, in fact, you almost wanted him to play, it had been really fun to seek against him, which made you wonder if he could be good at any of the other positions. He extended his hand to help you up and you took it without hesitation, his smile grew wider after that. 

“Didn’t see you earlier,” you said as you mounted your broom again, eager to get back into the game. 

“Got here when I heard people were flying like cavemen trying to throw each other off their brooms on the pitch,” he said with a smile. 

“Cavemen?” you said offended, “Way to leave the cavewomen out! Have you seen Dorcas and Harriet?” 

“Have you seen yourself?” 

You gasped, “When did you even become so sassy? Last thing I remember is a scared little boy who didn’t want to go see Jaws.” 

“Last thing I remember was a proper lady who wanted to have an adventure,” he countered, which made you laugh. 

You turned to him again, sliding your tongue through your teeth as you looked around. “You’ve seen the snitch, haven’t you?” 

“That eager for the game to finish?” 

“Not at all, just wanted to see if your sight was still as sharp as mine, or Potter’s.” You added as you looked at James who was making a massive effort to keep himself focused on the quaffle rather than flying behind the snitch he had seen several times. 

He laughed as you gave him a wink and took off again, cutting through the air straight to Alex who currently held the quaffle. 

“Good to see you aren’t dеad,” he said with a smile as he dodged your attempts to bump into him. 

“It takes a lot more than falling off a broom to take me down.” 

“So I’ve heard,” he replied as he threw the ball towards Dorcas, but you managed to intercept it and gave a sharp turn to travel to the other side’s goals.

You heard Dorcas saying something to Alex in a playfully angry voice, as if reproaching, but the boy only laughed. It was as if every single one of the players, even the most competitive like you: Fawn, Dorcas, Alex and Prongs, had all collectively decided that you would just have fun, instead of taking the game seriously. Everyone was having a blast, and everyone was getting blasted as well. 

Johnny Ackley, now watching the game next to Minho –who seemed to be impressed by everyone’s savagery, and also jumpy from how much he wanted to join in– looked glad that he wasn’t playing anymore as Prongs came your way and bumped into your side so hard that the Quaffle fell off your hands just for him to take in in his hands and fly as fast as possible and scoring. 

You had stayed over your broom, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath when you saw Alex approach you. “You okay? Potter was harsh!” he said with a judgy frown on his face. 

That might have been the first time James treated you like he treated everyone else in the game rather than like some injured creature he had to help. Your arm was almost healing completely, some of the scabs already falling off and revealing lighter and smoother skin and while a few sections still hurt, most of it was a lot better, regardless James had been extra careful around you since then, as if he couldn’t get the image of you laying on Sirius bed, body covered with bruises off his head. James had had a rather hard time realising you were –since you weren’t a man– slightly more delicate than the rest of his friends and that had been a reality check. 

But you seethed at the thought of being called weaker, so when James stopped treating you like a divination ball and started treating you like a player again, you were ecstatic, you turned to Alex with a huge smile and said, “Brilliant!” right before speeding your way to James again and bumping your not hurt arm against his shoulders, getting his broom to veer slightly off course. 

You were pretty happy with the fact that he wasn’t holding back either as he pushed you to the side, both of you laughing and almost veering out of the pitch completely. James managed to throw the ball back towards Dorcas as you threw hands at each other in a playful manner. 

“James Potter get your filthy hands off me!” 

“You do it first!” he replied just as playfully. You were about to crash into one of the stand towers when you both separated from each other only to round it and meet again on the other side. Both with the most wicked smiles on your faces. And then, in the middle of the two of you, the Snitch passed tauntingly. 

You had seen her a few times throughout the game, and she insisted on surrounding the two of you anyway, as if she knew you had been the two people to catch her on the previous games –she did– and yet this time around neither of you were chasing behind her, which obviously, she did not understand. 

You and James eyed each other before chasing behind her as fast as you could, not because you were ready to catch it, but because you both wanted to tell your seekers where it was. As the two of you sped behind it, you shouted “Fawn!” 

The girl quickly spun around and spotted the small ball, when she did, you drifted off, and when James made sure Laurie had also seen the snitch, he too veered off course, searching for the quaffle, ready to score more points for his team. 

Both Laurie and Fawn chased behind the sneaky little ball, spinning around players and towers and dropping down to the ground incredibly fast at the snitch’s whim. The rest of the players were still doing their tasks as fiercely as you were expecting them to and then some. The scores had been tight, in fact, a shot from James had just gotten them 10 points above you when Nox snatched the ball from Neil and threw it your way, this time you landed a shot from a decent distance and tied again. 

Seconds later you heard a gasp and then Minho whistled sharply, making it louder with the aid of his wand. Laurie had her hand held high, the snitch being held safely between her thumb and three fingers. There were some claps from the small crowd that had gathered as she landed and even Fawn, was clapping at her friend. 

Once you were on the floor, you had the widest smile as you went to congratulate the other team, “That was brilliant!” 

“You’re a savage!” James retorted, you shrugged in response. 

“You were all incredible,” Minho said as he too approached. “I really wanted to play after James joined in, the entire game went bullocks… in a good way.” 

“Great idea to bring her in Nox,” Dorcas said as she pointed at you and then extended her hand for you to shake, “Dorcas Meadows, pleasure to meet you.” 

You smiled and greeted the girl, plopping down on the grass floor with a loud thud, followed by Minho, Fawn, James, and then the rest of the team. You were all sitting on the floor as you reminisced the game. Regulus had joined in at some point and it made you wonder where the hell your boys were. You were sure you had talked to Sirius and he’d said he’d come, could he possibly still be sleeping? 

You leaned in and grabbed onto Minho’s hand, pulling his sweater back to check his watch, since you knew Prongs didn’t have one at hand, but Minho hissed when you touched his skin. “What the fuck you’re an ice cube!” He said as he looked at you worried.   

“It’s kinda chilly, isn’t it?” You said as you pulled your hand back to bring it up to your face and winced when your fingers brushed onto your cheeks. Did you feel cold? Yeah. Did you know how freaking cold you actually were? Not quite, the adrenaline had kept you warm enough for the duration of the game. 

James pulled onto your shirt. “Might have to do with the fact that she rushed out of the fucking room when I told her she was late,” he added. “You are wearing more layers under this, right?” 

If anyone realised James had implied you had been in his room in the morning, they either thought it was because of Sirius or assumed he meant the common room. 

“If I say yes, will you not pester me about–” You were interrupted by a sweater crashing onto your face. 

“So you don’t freeze,” Minho said, “And it’s 2 p.m.”

You were taken aback but nodded. “Thanks,” you said as you twisted the sweater around enough to put it on and passed it through your arms. It smelled a bit like Minho, but it wasn’t sweaty or anything. That didn’t stop James from looking at you with a frown while Comet, Nox and Dorcas looked at you with a knowing smile.

“What?” 

“Green suits you well,” Nox said with a smirk. 

“No, it does not,” James replied almost instantly. 

“She would have made a fine Slytherin, I’ve been saying this for a while,” Comet told Dorcas, loud enough to get James to hear, she just wanted to tease him, clearly. 

“No, she would have not,” he countered, exasperated. 

“Bet the hat considered her for Slytherin too,” Regulus told Minho with a smirk. 

You had almost forgotten how seriously they took house rivalry, but instead of joining the discussion, you just pulled the sleeves of the overly large sweater over your hands and pulled your knees to your chest, leaning your elbows against them in a rather comfortable ball position. Perhaps being in Slytherin wouldn’t have been as bad as you had initially thought, you were sure you would have found your way to the good Slytherins. But then, you might have not been able to make friends with Lily, James, Pete, Marlene and Mary, Tom, Beth or… Remus. No, you wouldn’t switch your house for anything, you wouldn’t change your friends for anything. Let alone for the cool aesthetic of the snakes. 

But James, Comet, Minho and Laurie (who was also a Gryffindor and had taken James’ side), were already arguing about the houses and the qualities needed to be on them. “You know I could have also been a Hufflepuff,” you said just to stir more trouble. 

Alex instantly knew what you were doing and nodded, “Yeah, I totally see her as a badger,” he said, “You’re patient and always play fair.” 

James looked at you in shock, as if what you had said had been preposterous when Neil, who also realised exactly what happened, decided to chime in. “Or a Ravenclaw,” he said, “You’ve always been witty, I’ve seen you at the reading club.” 

You looked at him and nodded as if you completely agreed and that got James –and Laurie, who had been adamantly fighting for your case– to gasp. Seconds later, Alex, Neil and you were laughing your asses off as James stared confused. 

“They’re fucking with us mate,” Laurie said as she nudged the boy. Laurie had quickly gotten comfortable with James; she imagined that was exactly how Archer would be if he had been a Gryffindor like her. 

James gave her a look and then pouted playfully before joining in the laughter. 

After a while of more talk, you all decided to go to the great hall together, but when you got in and saw neither Remus nor Sirius, you decided you had to go check on them. Not because you thought something had happened to them, but rather, because you had missed them in the game. At least one of them had always been with you on games or practice, and even if you wouldn’t admit it, you missed Sirius’s excessive teasing and Remus’ disapproving glances when you did something incredibly cool –or incredibly dangerous– depending on whose perspective. So you bid your goodbyes to everyone and walked up to the common room. 

Sirius was playing with a muggle cube that his cousin Andromeda had gotten him as an early Christmas present as he lay on the couch with his legs propped over Remus’ lap while the latter seemed to be attentively reading a book. 

“I missed you at the game,” you said as you approached. 

“Moony had a headache,” Sirius said. “Stayed for company, Pete told us Prongs was with you.” 

Sirius frowned at the cube and set it on the side before finally looking up at you, his frown deepening as his nose twitched. “Why the hell are you wearing a Slytherin sweater?” he asked.

“Oh, this?” You said as you pulled it from your body a little and shrugged. “I didn’t take a sweater with me since I slept in, which I entirely blame on the two of you,” you said as you pointed at them both, and then proceeded with your story, “Minho noticed I was cold and lent it to me.” 

“Take it off, would you?” Sirius said, annoyed.

You gave him an impatient stare, “Puppy, I know you hate Slytherin, but I don’t believe in house bias, I got here so many years later, the whole house indoctrination didn’t work on me.”

“It’s– it’s not that,” he said, looking to the side.

“Hold up,” You frowned, seeing how tense Sirius was and being taken aback. “Sirius, are you… are you jealous?” He didn’t speak. “You know Minho’s gay!” you stated. 

Remus’ ears perked at that, of course, he knew Minho was gay, he didn’t know you did though, let alone Sirius. 

Sirius bit his lip. “It’s not that either,” he added. You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a questioning expression, indicating him to elaborate. “It’s just, you…” 

“You smell like him,” Remus said, finally pulling his head from the book, a bitterness that didn’t slip past you but that you didn’t quite understand laced his tone. “He was Padfoot all night, his reflexes are wonky,” he added then, trying to fix his initial tone.

You gasped, your eyes opening wide as realisation hit you. You quickly pulled the jumper over your head and threw it to the side. “Better?” Sirius shook his head and walked towards you, pulling you into a bone-breaking hug. Making sure to pass his arms all over your back as he did. Trying to rub Minho’s scent off of you. 

“I’m sorry, puppy,” you said regretfully. 

“You fucked all of last night’s work.” He said with a sigh as he dipped his head on your neck and sniffed, he frowned, there was way too much fucking Minho mixed in with your scent. Your sweat was barely perceptible, him and Remus were almost fucking gone all together. 

“I did?” you asked with a worried frown, “Is that why you’re mad?” 

Sirius almost laughed, “It’s just gonna give me an excuse to cuddle you all over again Kit, that’s most definitely not it.” 

“Have you ever seen a dog bark at its owner after he’s been with other dogs?” Remus asked from his spot, he was just as eager to go rub off the smell of Minho but he knew it wasn’t his place, though he was sure to brush his hands all over Vixen the minute he had the chance, fuck circumspection. He could definitely not, have you smell like any other being near the moon, Moony wouldn’t tolerate it, he barely could. At least Sirius was doing a decent job and making you smell like you should, like the two of them, like the pack.

You pulled back just a little to look at Sirius. “Is that what this is about? You’re barking at me for playing with other dogs?” you teased. 

He huffed and brought you back into the hug. “We worked hard yesterday for you to ruin it with a sweater.” 

“And a Slytherin one,” Remus added, joining along the teasing, wanting Sirius to get riled up, he rather enjoyed it when he did, Sirius’ ears would go pink and he would flip his hair in a rather annoyed manner that Remus thought of amusing. 

You laughed at that, but leaned into Sirius’ hug regardless. “Next time I’ll make sure to ask for a sweater with a different house logo, perhaps a Hufflepuff?” 

“Next fucking time take my Godric-damned leather jacket with you instead,” he retorted through gritted teeth. 

You eyed Remus and shrugged with an amused smile. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged in return, he seemed to be having fun as well. Of course, he was playing it cool, he rather preferred it when you wore his sweaters. 

Then Sirius frowned, remembering you too were an animagus, which made him wonder. “Has it never happened to you?”  

“What has?” You asked as you brushed your hands through the back of his hair, Remus stared at the two intently, wondering what it would feel like to wrap the two of you into a hug, smelling both of your heads carelessly. 

“The smell thing…” 

You thought about it for a second and then you nodded, leaning further into his chest. “That time you’d gone Hogsmeade with the girls, we weren’t dating, but you came back smelling so much like Beth, I was snappy as hell with her for a week,” you said.

“Sorry.” He said honestly. “It’s a dog thing.” 

You sighed. “I figured…. and I hadn’t even been a fox for months back then.” 

“Jealous little Vixen,” Sirius teased, still brushing his hands all over your back, being extra careful. You almost laughed, after all, he was the one rubbing himself all over you either way. 

Later that day, while you were looking for your own Godric-damned sweater through your bottomless chest, you found something else, and as you stared at it, it downed on you, Sirius had never once complained, nor looked uncomfortable when you wore Remus’ sweaters.

It had to do with the smell of the pack, right? 

No. In fact, he tended to veer closer to you when you wore Remus’ sweaters. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: I did say my boy Sirius would have a crisis, didn't I? OMG Vixen, open your eyes! Also GUYS! Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. The announcement for it is here and I'll leave links to it on a reblog of this post ad in the comments. Happy Valentine's Day ♡ In my country we also celebrate friendship, and since you all have been here supporting me, I wanted you to know how much I love you!!!

Read more Marauders Fiction

[seaslugfanclub]

Time In the Spotlight

“(Y/N) dear, what’s gotten into you?” Captain Hook spoke for the room, filled with his fellow villains, who all shared the same looks of frustration and confusion.

They had all just finished with that claustrophobic group photo, their cheeks still hurting from forced smiles, when (Y/N) wormed their way into the dispersing crowd, asking all the villains to follow them.

“Yeah kid, I’ve been surrounded by enough people for a lifetime, if I have to hear any more singing I’m going to scream.” Hades added, picking his ear as if he could get the song physically out of his head.

(Y/N) had managed to wrangle everyone into a spare auditorium in the studio that was usually reserved for tours. They had even taken the time to thaw out Hans, who still had one of (Y/N)’s spare jackets wrapped around him.

Sensing the crowds impatience, (Y/N) gave a crooked grin.

“I know, I know! Sorry!! This won’t take long, but that’s kinda the reason I brought you all here.”

Looking around at the Villains confused looks, they elaborate, pulling out their phone.

“I thought it’d be nice if there was a photo taken of all you guys alone. Disney wouldn’t be anywhere without its villains, y’know? Give everyone their own time in the spotlight”

The room fell silent, surprise painted usually stoic demeanors.

“You’re not fucking with us, right?” Rourke called out, not used to being acknowledged.

(Y/N) shook their head, motioning to their phone,

“I know it’s not fancy like Goofys, but I promise I won’t drop it.”

A beat of silence passed, until a raggedy fox spoke up, “Well who are we to deny our audience!? Gideon step closer to me.” Honest John pulled his cat companion closer to him. That seemed to break everyone out of their shock, chuckles filling the auditorium as villains began to preen and prop. (Y/N) even helping Ratigan find a spot where he wouldn’t be overlooked, much to his delight.

After a couple minutes of getting situated, all the villains found their desired spots. The humans in one group and animals in another, with Chernabog looming above them all.

(Y/N) stood in front of them all, phone raised to their eye.

“Alright everyone, on the count of three!”

“One!”

Hades drooped his arm around Jafar with a grin, Jafar only huffing in annoyance.

“Two!”

Honest John removed his hat, his hand sneakily drifting towards King Johns back pocket.

“Three!”

Queen Grimhilde stood proudly, her lips slightly upturned.

(Y/N)’s phone flashed, a small click following as they took the photo, their own smile painted their face.

Everyone left their spots to crowd around (Y/N)’s phone, some complimenting the photo while some criticized their poses. But the air was light (as light as villains could be)

“Ugh, I blinked!!”

“Nonsense DeVille, you looks fine.”

“Look at us, we look great!”

“No one looks greater than Gaston! But yes, it’s a fine picture”

“Has anyone seen my wallet?”

Through the voices a hand was placed on top of (Y/N)’s shoulder, turning around their eyes met with Hades grin.

“But really babe, thanks.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him, already planning on finding the closest printer.

[qierxing]

hnnnngh animal hybrids getting me so…..yan hybrid heartslabyul time

Riddle is a pampered little kitty, who always knows he's the best of the best! He's got the pedigree to back him up on it too. there's a strict routine he follows down to the letter-wake up, groom himself neatly, eat a balanced breakfast, spend time observing for intruders-it's all rather tiring, but he sticks to it like no other. if his carefully set up routine is offset, expect some major temper tantrums incoming. still, he is a cat, and as such he'll still adamantly stick to your side for cuddles and petting. once you see him sleepy eyed and pouty lipped, perhaps you can forgive him for his stringent attitude other times. But you know he only does all these tiresome things to make sure you pay attention to him, and him only, right? best make sure you don’t indulge in bad habits, lest you end up on the wrong side of his claws. If you won’t look at him, then he’ll make you look at him.

a faithful companion is what Trey is, as being a dog hybrid, especially of the Newfoundland breed, means his loyalty and ability to care for others is second to none. He's extremely good natured and so patient, even with the rowdy younger ones. you have to remind him to not hover over the others too much, lest he stretch himself too far or his mother henning ends up controlling. It's already happened to you so far, even though you'd argue that's what you're supposed to be doing for him. his instinct to protect must be ingrained deeply, for why does it seem like he's always trailing after you nagging? it's one thing to look out for you, it's completely another thing to run his paws down your body for injuries. maybe you should enlist in some retraining advice…otherwise you might end up pinned to your bed with a possessive hound rutting into you.

a sly little thing, that Cater. Foxes are mischievous by nature, and he is no different. always pulling you to his side for surprise selfies or stealing your ribbon to tie up his own hair, he sure knows how to keep you on your toes. that said, he's still a lovable guy, just not very…honest. Is that another inherent trait? You often ask him where he’s been most of the day and he answers with a vague “just hanging around with other people!”(even though you swear you saw a flash of red orange fur out of the corner of your eye when you went shopping), or when you ask if he’s seen your favorite shirt, only to catch him red handed with it in the laundry. Still, it’s not like he’s weird or mean, it’s just that he needs a firm hand when going too far. And when it gets to the point where you’re having to confiscate his phone for having numerous photos of you, you’ll have to do something real quick or else you might end up flashing more than just underwear in those snaps.

you swear that Ace is a rascal, a rascal! Do all weasel hybrids act like this? one moment you're minding your own business and the next you're having to stop him from consuming your entire snack supply from the pantry. he's always managing to get himself in trouble that it has to be a talent at this point. Some days, you have to seriously consider whether you regret bringing him in from the shelter. Although, maybe that’s too harsh. When he’s not hellbent annoying the soul out of you, he entertains you with tricks up his sleeves, always smugly smiling whenever you compliment his skills. He has his soft moments. but sometimes he gets too mean–always snarling at your other friends or insulting you to the point of tears or frustration. Just when you think about returning him to another handler who could take care of such a rowdy guy, he always manages to come pleading and begging for your forgiveness and then your heart is too nice to not forgive him in the end. this game of tug of war can’t be good for you, but you don’t know that Ace is too well versed in playing hot and cold, and if it means you’ll be isolated from one more rival that isn’t him, then he’ll gladly play this game of breaking your heart.

your heart melts when you look at Deuce. you found the raccoon hybrid shivering in the snowy cold and brought him inside immediately. He’s a little roughed up but with a lot of warm food and being dried by a fluffy towel, he’s practically sparkling with a cool beauty that can’t be seen anywhere. You calm him down from his fretting and over time, he grows rather attached to your side. always insisting on doing your share of the work, claiming it’s to repay you for all you’ve done for him. It’s a little worrying though. Raccoons are mostly solitary creatures, but Deuce has told you he’s been separated from his mother, and you wish to help him reunite with his family. But why is it that he’s not in any hurry to leave? Is he afraid? surely not, as you’ve seen him send intimidating guys twice his size packing from his fighting skills. It’s a secret, but Deuce has been chickening out on proposing to you. he’s been wanting to introduce someone to his mother for a while and put her worries to rest, but every time he’s faced with your smiling face he always ends up red faced and silent. Just give him a couple more days to drum up his courage! once he returns triumphantly with you swollen with his cubs by his side, he’ll be able to rest easy.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 40

PREV

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?! 

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing. 

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight. 

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence. 

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer. 

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[raina-at]

Family

More in the 'Mark and Rosie' 'verse, and since some of you asked to meet Mark, well, here he is.

-----

“And this is Uncle Greg,” Rosie says, pointing at the picture. They’re curled on the sofa in Rosie’s room, going through Rosie’s old photo album. “He was Paps’ best man,” she adds, pointing him out in the group photo of her fathers’ wedding. 

“He’s a fox,” Mark mutters, putting an arm around Rosie when she pokes him playfully in the ribs. “How are you related to him again?”

“Not at all. He’s Paps’ and Dad’s best friend.”

“You dads have a mutual best friend? That… must have been complicated for him in the past,” Mark observes, keeping his tone carefully neutral. He knows a lot of family history from Rosie, and he imagines navigating between these two strong but complicated men can’t always have been easy.

Rosie shrugs. “It’s not so bad. He’s sharing Paps with Aunt Molly, and she takes most of the emotional stuff. Dad’s far more stiff upper lip, so he and Greg mostly go to the pub and watch rugby.”

“Who’s Aunt Molly again?”

Rosie points to her in the group picture. “She had a bit of a pash on Paps, but she got over it, thank god.” She shudders. “Can’t imagine what she was thinking, Paps would have eaten her alive.”

“Some people like that,” Mark says, giving Rosie an insinuating smile.

Rosie blushes adorably and mutters, “Shut up, my dads are downstairs.”

“I told you we should have gone to mine.” 

Rosie rolls her eyes. “If you’re not interested, just say so,” she says, making to rise.

Mark pulls her back and kisses her neck in apology. “Sorry, sweets. Just teasing. Of course I’m interested. Especially since sooner or later I’m going to meet all of these people, and if they’re even a bit like your fathers, most of them will threaten to kill me, so I’d better learn about their weaknesses.”

Rosie laughs. “True enough.” She opens the album again and points at the pictures. “Uncle Mycroft won’t even have to threaten you, he’ll just give you a look, and that’ll be enough to put the fear of god into you. Greg and Molly are probably both going to be fairly direct about it, but they’re actually harmless. Nan and Granddad will probably not threaten you at all, they’re too polite. Fair warning, though, Hudders can get dangerous. Don’t underestimate her under any circumstances. I know she’s eighty-five and looks like Mary Poppins’ gran, but she’ll take you aside at some point and threaten to cut your balls off, and believe me, she’ll be completely serious and capable of doing it.”

Mark swallows, looking from the picture to the girl next to him. She’s radiant today. Hair in a messy ponytail, ancient jumper, ripped jeans, entirely at ease in her skin as always. It’s the most attractive thing about her, that complete self-confidence. She’s brilliant and beautiful, of course, but what makes her irresistible to him is the air of a person who can’t imagine what it’s like not to be loved unconditionally. Looking at the group of people making up Rosie’s family, he understands why now. Must be nice, he thinks. Knowing so many people would get murderously violent on your behalf. 

“What?” Rosie asks, blushing a bit under his scrutiny. “I know my family’s weird, and a lot—”

Mark puts a finger over her lips and smiles. “Ro, every family’s weird. We all have aunts we’re not related to and weird uncles and friends we love as siblings. I was just thinking that I hope one of these days they’ll protect me too.”

Rosie grins and leans in, brushing a soft kiss over his lips. Her eyes are fierce and flinty, and he’s reminded of both her fathers when she says, “Don’t worry, love. That’s my job.”

Mark pulls her in for a long kiss, thinking, If I get murdered for this girl, I’ll die a happy death.

---

I need a name for this 'verse at some point.

Tags under the cut as always, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @salmonsown @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty

[milknhonies]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 2 || MasterList || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.

Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.

10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”

You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.

You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.

It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.

The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.

You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.

You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.

Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.

“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.

He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.

He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’

“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.

He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’

You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.

You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.

It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.

“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.

“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”

“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”

Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.

“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.

His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”

He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.

Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.

“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”

‘No fucking way’….just your luck…

You were going to fucking take it no matter what….

Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”

You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.

“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.

He laughed hard.

He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”

You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”

Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…

Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....

You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.

You discovered the following about August J. Walker.

He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.

August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.

On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.

A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.

It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.

So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.

09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.

August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.

He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.

Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.

So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling,  you were definitely a tasty little thing.

It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.

He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.

He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.

He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.

He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.

He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.

So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...

Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.

As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.

He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.

“Walker.”

“It’s Gibson.”

He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”

“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”

The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.

He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…

“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”

His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.

He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”

His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.

His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”

She...

He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.

She...

She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...

“What did you say?”

“Sir the cost to-”

He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”

“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”

His thumb pressed hard against the pen.

“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.

Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.

“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.

He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”

Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...

“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”

August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”

His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.

“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.

He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”

He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”

06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.

“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.

If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.

When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.

A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.

You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.

‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’

He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”

‘Him...August Walker...’

You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?

The package was as thick as your hand.

You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.

You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.

Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.

You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.

“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”

Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.

‘Stay down or I will put you down.’

When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…

Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.

Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.

Your teeth clenched hard.

You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.

You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.

But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.

Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.

You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.

August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...

You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.

Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?

You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.

Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.

‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’

Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”

His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”

Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.

Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”

You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.

And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.

‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’

It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.

You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.

The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.

'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.

If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?

You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.

You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.

Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.

You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.

You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...

02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.

Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.

Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.

Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.

The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”

You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.

You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.

‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’

It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.

As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.

When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”

The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”

You prayed he’d bite the banter.

The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”

You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”

And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.

09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.

The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.

‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.

You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.

You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?

You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.

Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.

The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.

06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”

You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.

A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.

You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.

You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.

“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”

You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.

But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.

“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.

You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”

“The tesla?” He asked.

“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”

He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.

As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”

God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.

He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.

You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.

To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.

‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’

Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.

You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.

The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.

Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.

06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.

As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.

‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’

His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.

“Hi Lloyd.”

“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.

‘Oh right.’

“Come- come in.”

You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.

You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.

Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.

You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.

If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’

“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.

“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”

His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.

“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”

You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”

His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.

You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.

“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”

You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.

He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.

You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.

You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.

You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”

He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.

You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.

He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.

“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.

The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.

Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”

There was a lengthy pause.

He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”

You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”

Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.

You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.

His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”

Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.

“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”

His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”

You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”

“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”

His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.

Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.

You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.

“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.

Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.

Lloyd smiled softly.

God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.

Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.

“Y-You said you needed help with something?”

He smirked, letting go of your hand.

He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”

“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.

“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”

You pieced it bit by bit.

“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”

“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”

Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.

“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.

“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”

You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.

“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”

‘He threatened to put me down.’

He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”

You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.

The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.

“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”

He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”

Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”

His left brow rose.

“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”

He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”

Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.

You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”

The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…

“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”

You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”

He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.

“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.

“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.

You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.

You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.

You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.

Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.

You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…

You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.

Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.

You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.

What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’

You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.

So why did your body start to dry up?

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.

After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.

You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’

You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.

The hour was late.

Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.

10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.

“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’

A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.

“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”

Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”

You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”

The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”

Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.

She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.

She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then

She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.

Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.

The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.

You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….

Lloyd thought so too.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

chapter 6 thoughts: (spoilers ahead!)

oh. fuck.

-

he was king. now he’s a martyr.

holy shittttt

-

aftg really brings us all together, this is random but i love talking to other fan accounts about the books

-

anyway fanfics will no longer have to speculate when rikos funeral was, and if kevin attended or not (or if he had a mental breakdown about it)

also neil u have no tact babe and i love u for it

-

oh renee ur so lovely ur so insightful (neil u should listen to what she has to say)

jean and his ‘i won’t grieve him’ ❤️🫶

- ‘promise me’ jean said with a desperation that should have kill him, nathaniel didn’t hesitate, ‘i promise’ SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE THEM THANK U NORA THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM THIS BOOK

THE SWAP FROM NATHANIEL TO NEIL IS JUST AS POWERFUL FROM JEANS PERSOECTIVE IN TSC AS IT WAS IN FROM NEILS IN TKM I LITERALLY CANNOT THE PARALLELS ARE KILLING ME

-

it’s 1:40 am and i’ve just made a cup of tea to keep myself awake

feeling many things about jeans perusal of the fox photo wall and taking renee’s picture

-

i know these motherfuckers aren’t accusing neil kevin and jean of abandoning that cunt and leading to his ‘suicide’

-

WE ARE THE RIGHT PEOPLE I THINK JUST NOT THE RIGHT TIME (look i am admittedly not a jean/renee shipper but good god they are so sweet in this)

A COOL EVENING BREEZE AND RAINBOWS

-

screaming as silently as i can rn

- petition for someone to put summertime sadness on the jean playlist

-

whattttt is the mystery about jeremy’s family?? what is this fabled fall banquet that tore his family in half im so intrigued i have to know more

ALSO JEREMY IS IN THERAPY AND HAS SOME SORT OF FAMILY ISSUES I KNEW IT IM SURE THATS ON A BINGO SOMEWHERE

-

jeremy dad of the trojans checking to see that they’re safe and also cody first cannon non binary character??? pls say yes

-

accidentally fell asleep in the middle of my planned all nighters whoops it’s currently 7 am

chapter 7:

“I like to indulge,” Jeremy said with a dimpled smile. ​Kevin’s words mocked him in the back of his thoughts: “Some of them you like.”

i did. notice this in chapter 2 or whatever but is this?? are we getting jerejean???? that’s what this means righ??

-

jeremy wdym ‘oh to be the pampered elite’ u have a butler??

jean defending kevin saying he’s earned the right to be arrogant be still my beating heart i love these stubborn mother fuckers

-

He was years away, watching a different beautiful boy lean in close to say, Will you teach me when he’s not watching? It could be our secret.

STOP IT RN

chapter 8!!

flicked him a sly look. “Easy on the eyes, maybe.”

AHHHHH!!!

-

also so glad that there’s 100% confirmation cat and laila are dating (shared bedroom!)

-

the description of laila and cats lounge room is so soft and cozy im so jealous i wish i was there

-

barkbark von barkenstein u will never top sir fat cat mcatterson (although props to nora for always having simultaneously the worst and most creative names for pets)

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jean telling cat she’s a good player but misses every ball at her hips is literally every raven! (someone) fic ever come to life where they meet a relatively normal other team and have absolutely no tact or awareness of what others considered rude and immediately tell the other players what their weaknesses are (i’m obsessed)

-

“Yes,” he said, and if he didn’t sound sure, he at least sounded angry. “Let them all burn. I hope none of them survive.” BABY I LOVE U IM SO PROUD OF U UR SAFE NOW FUCK RIKO FUCK THE RAVENS FUCK THE MASTER

-

“Oh, he’s good. A bit rude, but I like him. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

i’d say the exact same thing

-

*jeremy giving jean the keys*

well it’s not andreil levels of drama and symbolism but love a good comparison

-

or they do not care enough about her wellbeing. It’s unforgivable either way.”

giggling a bit over jean being up in arms about boba knowing that he’d be seriously unimpressed with me if he knew how much boba i drank

-

he wants to know what it was for

AND WHAT IF THAT LINE BROKE ME NORA?? AND WHAT THEN??

The Ravens had given up everything to be the undefeated champions, only to be destroyed last month by a tiny team from South Carolina.

I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE

“Loving something is not enough,” Jean told him, right on cue. ​“When is the last time you enjoyed playing?” Jeremy asked. ​“Irrelevant,” Jean said. “I am Jean Moreau; I am perfect Court. I do not need to enjoy it to be the best backliner in the NCAA.”

that was what Jean felt safest in, Jeremy would back his decision wholeheartedly.

LITERALLY LEAVE ME ALONE

chapter 9999

also i’m so glad that we have jeremy/laila/cat friendship like in fics and stuff they were always best buddies coz they were the only trojan characters named in the books but it’s great to see they’re actually good friends in cannon

-

“I need you to listen to me for one moment,” Laila said, “and I need you to believe me when I say it. Fuck Coach Moriyama.”

AGREED AGREED AGREED FUCK THAT CUNT

-

COOKING LESSONS WITH JEAN THIS IS THE WHOLESOME CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR

-

cat talking macronutrients and promising to help with his diet so it’s still familiar but more fun in order to begin healing jeans relationship with food is so important to me

-

nora bleaching jeremy’s hair blonde after telling us she was shocked we all headcannoned him as blonde while she thought he was brunette is so funny to me,, don’t worry fan artists u do not have to change a thing!

(frosted tips made me giggle too, jeremy u pussy)

-

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

-

chapter 10

jean learning basic household chores like sorting and washing clothes and deep cleaning the apartment and learning his way around a supermarket <3

-

LAILA CAT JEAN FRIENDSHIP IS REAL

Afternoons were filled with whatever the women were in the mood for that day, be it wandering downtown, shopping, or combing through estate sales.

Jean went where they took him because it was better than being left in the house alone,

-

COOKING IS HEALING JEAN ITS A COMFORT THING SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS EVERYTHUNG HES SO REAL FOR THAT

-

Ravens graduated; they didn’t leave.

fuck if that didn’t just stop my heart

-

i definitely should have been more wary of the trigger warnings. if anyone is wanting to read the book but is worried about certain parts, i’d be happy to let y’all know what sections are triggering so u can try and skip around them.

-

But Jean was not a Raven, and Wayne was dead.

FUCK YEAH BABY NOT ANYMORE U ARENT

-

the thought of that quiet space with its single bed was so repulsive he turned toward the living room instead. - this is so important to me

He could sense the others’ presence even if they weren’t around to bother him, and that was enough to take the edge off the loneliness eating at his heart.

literally end my life i’m so happy for jean, he’s healing slowly but surely

-

this was better than anything he’d ever had. It was worlds more than he deserved. He feared it as much as he wanted it;

JEAN U DO DESERVE IT I PROMISE U

-

wait wtf,, zane is reacher??? in literally every raven fic ever reacher is the most abusive character other than riko

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OMFG BEACH SCENE??? THEYRE GONNA TAKE JEAN TO THE BEACH??? CHECK THAT OFF EVERY SINGLE BINGO CARD MADE FOR THIS BOOK

^ yeah i wrote that two seconds before then reading jeans panic attack about drowning and the trigger of riko waterboarding him and neil and now i want to cry

[postmodernbeliever]

Thoroughfare- Fox Mulder x Female Reader

Chapter Two: Piglet Takes A Plane

^^ rip the gif quality ugh LOL

table of contents <3

if you’d prefer my ao3 | word count: 2,575

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You were not well-acclimated to flying. You’d gone on one trip in your life by plane, and it was from Massachusetts to Disney World; you were five, and your father held your hand the whole ride, and you had not a worry in the world. But now you’re older, bigger, and positively terrified of all the possibilities. Even in taking this job with the FBI, you somehow failed to consider the chance you’d need to travel. All that time spent working in New York got you used to staying in one place because God knows there’s enough crime up there to keep you stationed at home. But now, you need to fly halfway across the country just to start your job. You were a nervous wreck; Fox could see that by how you sat hunched over in your seat, flipping through your copy of the case files like a fugitive, jumping at the fuzzy announcements every time they reminded the gate-goers of their departure times. 

“Not a frequent flier, huh?”

“No.” 

“Come on, it’ll be fine. I fly all the time, I’m a pro, I’ve got all the tips,” the man attempted to comfort you, but it came out more like teasing. He shifted gears with, “Did you know that you’d have to fly every single day for nearly 10,000 years to get in a plane crash? The likelihood of you dying in a plain old car accident is way higher than the plane going down.”

You frowned in aggravation and grumbled, “Not helping.”

“What will help, then?”

The attendant interjected, her grating voice in the PA system blaring the worst news: “Flight 128, Dulles to Kansas City, will begin boarding now. Groups one and two, please make your way to the gate.”

Fox stood up and took your bag for you, chuckling to himself. When he caught a glimpse of the color leaving your face, he said, “Oh, come on, Piglet, the plane won’t go down! You’re gonna be okay, promise.”

You followed the man towards the front of the gate, where a line of people itching to board stood. The odd nickname rang in your ears like an alarm, panicking you along with the feeling jolting through your arms; you wanted to say something, but the anxiety paralyzing your limbs was much more pressing than your objection. Ignoring the urge, you stood behind Fox so you could watch how he got through- the attendant took his boarding pass, scanned it, and checked his passport photo. He smiled charmingly at the woman, whose eyelashes fluttered as she passed his papers back. Then, he walked through the little turnstile and stood on the other side, giving you an encouraging nod. He mouthed to you: Relax. 

You attempted to mirror the ease with which he went about passing through, but as you flashed the lady a nervous grin, you fumbled the things in your hands and dropped your passport. You bent down to grab it and bumped into the man behind you on the way back up. You muttered an apology, and he simply huffed in response.

The attendant stared at your passport photo, which you knew was nearly expired, and she said, “Changed your hair?”

Mortified- and slightly pissed off by her tone- you responded, “Seven years ago.”

She passed your belongings back and you walked through the checkpoint to Fox, but not without bumping into the bars before she unlocked them, yet again making yourself look like an idiot in front of the line. Your partner was biting back the most innocent laugh when you finally passed through. He’d never tell you, but he admired the way your face did the talking- all it took was one look to know how you felt about that woman, and the sheepish color in your cheeks was endearing. You tried to take your duffle from him, but he swung it away and clicked his tongue, so instead you walked onto the jet bridge, and he followed. Every few seconds you looked back to find he was still there, and each time his kind eyes put you at ease. You let out a heavy breath as you reached the plane door., where you were greeted by two flight attendants who looked at your boarding pass and pointed you in the proper direction. You made sure your partner was right behind you and tried not to giggle at the way he had to hunch. You knew he was tall, but inside a plane, he almost towered… or maybe you just thought he did, since you felt relatively small all morning. Attentively, you followed the aisle numbers just above your head down the line until you reached the middle of the cabin. Row 29, you thought to yourself, this is it. You scooted into the window seat and watched Fox push both yours and his luggage into the overhead compartment. You would’ve never imagined he was strong, given the pleasing lankiness of his body, but he didn’t lug or haul- he simply lifted. You turned your attention to the seat before you when he moved to loosen his tie and sit in the aisle seat of the row. 

Fox watched as you leaned back against the headrest to settle, taking note of your features. He stole a few glances yesterday when you were filling out paperwork for your transition into the Bureau on his old desk; for the first time, he wished his office wasn’t so dark. He didn’t get much of a chance other than when he offered to walk you to your car at the end of the night, which you gratefully accepted. He thought your car suited you, being compact and black, but with pictures pinned to the inside roof- reserved, understated, hiding things beneath the surface. His analytic brain was so intrigued by you. Here, where the lights weren’t so low, he could see a lot more. Your jaw had less sharpness and more of a curvature, molding your face into something of a heart; your eyelashes were long, and they curled upwards, mirroring your button nose. It had a little bump on the bridge, which he thought might be from long-term glasses-wearing, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes traveled along your plump cheeks, a nervous red, just like your lips; your chin protruded a bit, but not too much, just enough. There was a warm feeling between his lungs, an odd one, but he kept looking at how your chest rose and fell anxiously, and wondered how your face could look serene when you felt anything but. 

“Excuse me, you’re in my seat.”

Fox’s head snapped around to see an older woman, gray hair to her shoulders, staring down at him with frustration. You opened your eyes as he muttered, “Oh, sorry. I’ll move over.”

You pulled yourself in tight, tucking your elbows between the armrests stiffly so Fox could scooch over and sit beside you. He smiled at your awkward position and said, “Loosen up Piglet. Everyone is too small for economy, you don’t have to suck it in for me.” You blushed and readjusted, offering him a tight-lipped grin. Another stress you’d had was taking up too much room in the seat, but he didn’t seem to find you did. Fox crossed his own over his chest to give up the armrest. You continued to take long, deep breaths as the seatbelt lights flashed, and when they announced preparation for takeoff. You were doing fine- when Fox started talking about the case, you even paid him half attention. But it all went downhill when the airplane engine began to rev beneath your feet. You tensed up like you were in pain, drawing Fox’s attention away from his ramblings. 

“What’s the matter?”

“I told you, I- I don’t like flying,”

“I know you don’t,” Fox spoke softly, “We’re on the wing, you know. I changed our seats last night so we got the wing. It’s the steadiest part during the flight. Nothing to be scared of.”

You looked out the little window by your shoulder, seeing the plane’s wing stretching out for what looked like forever. You couldn’t see the tarmac, only the span of it, white and comforting. Turning back to him, you realized you’d never seen a face so sincere. “You did?”

“No reason to make you suffer, right?”

Just as you went to really smile at him, the plane began rolling- no, hurtling into takeoff. In a fit of fear, you seized the armrest and shut your eyes. You’d had nightmares about plane crashes. You’d refused any trips that were too long by car. Between when he told you about the case yesterday and this morning, you’d imagined every possible disaster and had reached the epitome of paranoia about it. Yet here you were, stuck in the center of your fear. It felt like your ribs were burning up from the inside out.

You felt rough skin against your knuckles and opened your eyes to see a familiar hand on your own. Your gaze trailed up the arm to the face it belonged to. 

“I’m right here,” Fox leaned in close, and you saw those golden rings again. They seemed to glow. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

There were so many things you wanted to say, so many worries you wanted to voice, but you couldn’t. The sound of his comfort was a roadblock, and all your reckless thoughts smashed head-first into it, making it impossible to think in the pile-up. Instead, you nodded quickly and flipped your palm up, lacing your fingers with his. Pressing your head hard against the seat and swallowing butterflies that you couldn’t define as nervous or excited, you paid close attention to the way his thumb rubbed slow, deliberate circles into your hand. Through the rattling of the engine and the screaming whistle of the air curling around the wings, you felt his touch grounding you in mid-air. You forced yourself to get lost long enough that the plane was in flight for at least a minute or two before you opened your eyes again. 

Humiliated by what a sight you must’ve been, you loosened your deathly grip on Fox’s hand and apologized. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, flexing his palm. “You’re strong. Didn’t hurt me, though.”

As you settled into the seat, you felt the ghost of his thumb on your knuckle. The skin was cold. You thought of how hard his hands were. Oddly warm. Curiosity nearly got the better of you as you saw him looking from the corner of your eye, but you pivoted to something else that bugged you. “Where did Piglet come from?”

“Huh?”

“Piglet. Before, at the gate, you called me Piglet.”

“Oh. That,” Fox giggled. You wondered how a guy could look so boyish and weathered all at once. “I don’t know, you’re just so… fretful.”

“Fretful?”

“Yeah. You worry about everything. Yesterday you were practically pulling hair out over those stupid processing papers. This whole plane thing has been a nightmare for you. I don’t blame you, I can be anxious myself… but it just seems like everything drives you crazy. I can imagine you just stressing out, running all around the woods rambling like Piglet does. Y’know, pacing, complaining, bugging Pooh.”

“Oh, and what, are you Pooh in this scenario?”

Fox feigned offense. “What, am I not carefree and- and honey-loving enough for you?”

“If you’re anybody, you’re Eeyore. Maybe some weird amalgamation of Eeyore and Tigger, since you think you’re so funny.”

“I can’t believe this!” Fox gasped jokingly, splaying his hand over his heart and wincing. “You’re brutal, Piglet. So brutal.”

You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, so you looked down to hide what you could of it. And in a stroke of confidence, you said, “If you’re gonna nickname me, can I at least suggest something?”

Fox craned his neck down playfully, searching for the eye contact that you were purposefully refusing him. You felt your cheeks heating up once again, and he must’ve seen it because his eyes twinkled. “Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Rosaline. Maybe Rosie. Something like that.” “Rosaline? Why?” 

When you did raise your head to meet his gaze, there was a genuine look of interest. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pouted in some gentle way, and he rested his chin in his hand like he was a student behind a desk, soaking up every second of a lecture. You blinked, suddenly embarrassed for speaking up. “Like Romeo’s Rosaline. She’s my favorite Shakespeare character. I, uh…”

Fox was fixed on you. When you trailed off, he insisted, “What about her?”

“Well, I had to do a project on her back in middle school. I had to come up with a new end scene, sort of like a “What if Romeo went back to Rosaline in the end?” type of deal. I- I got in her head a little, tried to understand what it must’ve felt like to be left by a lover out of nowhere… I don’t know, I guess I just resonated with her. I always thought she deserved better cards. I do love Romeo and Juliet, but I think how she disappears into their story is almost more tragic than how the play really ends sometimes… a-and after that, I always wished I had her name,” you gushed. As you realized how much you’d spoken, you mumbled, “Sorry. Dorky, I know.”

The agent ogled you like some specimen he’d never seen before. He knew he was making a face, but he couldn’t help it. You were like a curveball, just flying by and catching him off guard every chance you got. You thought about things in a way that made him want to think like you. Before you said anything, he hadn’t remembered who Rosaline was; his extent of knowledge was how hot the actress who played Juliet was in the 1968 adaptation he saw in school. But the way you looked when you explained it somehow made the man feel guilty for ever forgetting her, for just letting her be lost in time like everyone who suffered the whiplash of Romeo and Juliet’s love. For you to resonate with her, you must see yourself in her, and he wanted so desperately to understand why. Somewhere in the part of his brain where he stifles his thoughts, he knew he could never forget her name now- because by doing so, he’d be forgetting you. And that was not something he was prepared for.

Despite the churning in his stomach, Fox slapped on a smirk and joked, “Good job, you just reminded me of how much I hated Shakespeare when I was fourteen.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Well, we’ll see,” he teased, tipping his head back against his headrest and smiling. “Maybe I’ll go for it. But every time you freak out, we’re going straight to Piglet.”

“Yeah, fine… Eeyore.”

“What’d you call me?”

“Nothing!”

You playfully fell silent and turned towards the window, which you swiftly shut because you didn’t want to know how high up the plane was flying. From a seat over, Fox watched you close your eyes and zone out, and he thought to himself that if you happened to fall asleep in your seat, and your head lolled onto his shoulder, that he would let you rest on him, even if it meant holding his pee until landing. 

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Stephen A. Crockett Jr. at HuffPost:

I’ve always been stunned at former President Donald Trump’s physical prowess.

I mean, who can forget when his White House director of communications, Anthony Scaramucci, gushed about witnessing Trump throw a perfect spiral through a tire? Or his claim that he’s seen the confirmed thousand-aire at Madison Square Garden in a top coat at the foul line swishing free throws? And despite all of us knowing that the former president’s diet relies heavily on fast food, that didn’t stop his White House physician, now Rep. Ronny Jackson (R-Texas), from praising his genetics. “Some people just have great genes,” Jackson told reporters in 2018. “I told the president if he had a healthier diet over the last 20 years, he might live to be 200.” So it has been quite the show watching the gymnast-like contortions of the former president to avoid getting to know, or actually court, Black people to support his campaign. Earlier this month, in his latest episode of “See? Black people like me!” the president stood during an obvious photo-op at an Atlanta Chick-fil-A while smiling Black workers appeared to pose while taking his order. Trump reportedly ordered 30 milkshakes and some chicken, dealing out fast food for free publicity before heading to a high-dollar fundraiser in a largely white neighborhood.

A Black woman in the restaurant said, in her best untrained actor voice, “I don’t care what the media tells you, Mr. Trump, we support you!” I later found out the Black woman was in fact Michaelah Montgomery, a conservative activist who had arranged the entire scene. To her credit, the bigger story was supposed to be a conversation between students from nearby HBCUs and the presidential candidate about conservatism and possible inroads with the Black community. The moment became a meme. As with most Trump moments. Because what Trump and those around him don’t understand or care to involve themselves with is that Black people, more specifically Black women (also known as the spine of the Democratic voting bloc), are three dimensional, alive, actual human beings.

In Trumpland, Black people are caricatures of all of the worst stereotypes that have ever been imagined. They are rapists, thieves and murderers who want to terrorize… wait, no, that’s immigrants. But the point remains: The idea of even possibly courting Black voters never moves past stereotypical ideology. Which is comical when you consider that in 2024, the year of our lord Dawn Staley, an actual presidential strategy for winning the Black vote was… wait for it… sneakers. In February, Trump unveiled his $399 “Never Surrender High-Tops” at SneakerCon in Philadelphia. Trump didn’t just premiere the gaudy gold high-top decorated with an American flag motif, the sort of faux patriotism that’s truly become Trump’s signature brand, he actually went to the event to help hawk the ridiculousness that was an attempt to capture not just youth culture but ... well, I’ll just let Fox News contributor Raymond Arroyo say the quiet part out loud. “This is ... connecting with Black America. Because they’re into sneakers. They love sneakers. This is a big deal. Certainly in the inner city.”

Arroyo got bashed for his take, as he should, but his take was a glimpse into how many Republicans, especially Trump, see Black people as sneaker-loving, inner-city dwelling and easily swayed by shiny, expensive things. It’s Republican typecasting in which a Black person remains the villain/magical negro who serves only to further the white protagonist’s storyline. And make no mistake about it, in the story of Trump, as told by the narcissistic narrator, the former president is always the hero.

Which brings us to Blacks 4 Trump (aka Black Voices for Trump), you know, that hodgepodge group of Blacks (mostly men) who have proclaimed their allegiance to Trump and who stump for him despite his lackluster attempts at any tangible metrics with the Black community. Don’t act like you don’t remember Michael Symonette, Maurice Woodside and Mikael Israel (these are not three people; it’s one man who has gone by three names), more commonly know as “Michael the Black Man” (his name for himself, not mine) who magically appeared behind Trump at a 2017 rally in Arizona. Always strategically placed in the camera’s view wearing a shirt that says “Trump & Republicans Are Not Racist” or “Blacks 4 Trump.” The funny thing is that the group Blacks 4 Trump didn’t ever seem to really do anything other than allow their Blackness to be co-opted for the then-president’s political gain. The group didn’t have an agenda or a political manifesto (at least it never presented one) that noted how Trump could actually earn the Black vote. They just showed up and allowed their images to be used to sell a product.

Because, never forget, Trump is always in the Trump business. Which leads to arguably the most disturbing attempt by Trump’s campaign to court Black voters, which Trump’s camp openly admits they need to win over in the upcoming election: Insisting that because Black people have been the victims of an unjust criminal system, they relate to Trump more because he, too, is a victim of the Man.

[...] Trump acknowledges that there is discrimination and, more important, that Black people have been discriminated against. This means nothing to him, of course, as that only serves to get him to his second point, which is that he can relate, which therefore makes him more relatable to the discriminated class. He doesn’t want to fix the problem, he only wants to leech off of the sympathies related to it. It is in this brushstroke that Trump ― who has been charged by Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis, a Black woman; Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg, a Black man; and New York Attorney General Letitia James, a Black woman ― that he, too, is a victim of systemic racism.

“When I did the mug shot in Atlanta, that mug shot is number one,” Trump said. He added that the Black population “embraced it more than anyone else.” He also said: “I’m being indicted for you, the Black population.” First, the obvious. I’ll just let President Joe Biden’s campaign spokesperson Jasmine Harris explain it. “The audacity of Donald Trump to speak to a room full of Black voters during Black History Month as if he isn’t the proud poster boy for modern racism. This is the same man who falsely accused the Central Park 5, questioned George Floyd’s humanity, compared his own impeachment trial to being lynched and ensured the unemployment gap for Black workers spiked during his presidency,” Harris told The Washington Post.

“Donald Trump has been showing Black Americans his true colors for years: an incompetent, anti-Black tyrant who holds us to such low regard that he publicly dined with white nationalists a week after declaring his 2024 candidacy.”

Stephen Crockett Jr. wrote in HuffPost that Donald Trump's attempt to court Black voters is based on stereotypical traits of Blacks from a conservative POV, including by claiming to relate to being victims of an unjust criminal system that Black folk face.

[tcwmatchmakingau]

One Call Away - Pt. 1

Summary: Thorn wants Fox to find love, and he’s counting on Daria to make it happen. An unstoppable force is about to meet an immovable object.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Daria Trace (OC)

Rating: G (later chapters will get spicy 👀)

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2886

Written to: The Archer by Taylor Swift

Massive shoutout to @deejadabbles not only for taking the first/last look but also encouraging me so much. Wouldn’t have made it without her 🥰

Matchmaking for the clones was nothing like matchmaking for the smarmy elites of Coruscant. The most noticeable difference was the way they showed their gratitude after a successful match. Daria had received expensive bottles of whiskey, opera tickets and even furs from clients. The gifts were accompanied by generic messages clearly written by their aides, and while Daria wouldn’t say no to good whiskey or a fun night at the theatre, the gifts were perfunctory in nature.

The clones, however, showed their appreciation with their hearts. Daria had received flowers clearly stolen from someone’s greenhouse that perfectly matched her lavender hair, gift cards for iced coffee, all manner of fidgets to keep her occupied, and her favorite, new photos of them with their new partners.

Commander Thorn in particular was immensely grateful for his new girlfriend, but when he’d come by bearing a gift he’d also had a request.

“I’m always happy to see you Thorn, but I’m curious as to why you have a knife in my office,” Daria said, eyeing the blade Thorn was twirling around.

“You like to keep your hands busy, right? So you can learn to spin this, and eventually how to throw it,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “Your hands will never be bored again.”

“A bold claim,” she said, following the knife’s movements. There was something alluring about such a dangerous plaything in motion, and she found her fingers twitching in anticipation. “Ok, I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl!” He brought the knife to an abrupt stop offering it to her handle first.

Daria took the knife and began slowly moving it through her fingers. Thorn watched her work out the best way, as her hand was much smaller than his, and bare. After one minute, the knife was flipping through her fingers quickly and smoothly.

“Kriff, this is really fun,” she confessed quietly. She couldn’t play with it around other people, unless she was hoping to intimidate them, but when she was alone it would definitely be in heavy rotation amongst her other toys. “Thank you, Thorn.”

“You’re welcome, and now for the part where I beg for assistance.”

Daria stopped the knife, placing it on her desk with a decisive click.

“She does not wish to receive heart-shaped jewelry, so go back to the drawing board on that one,” Daria said after a moment of scrutiny.

“Wha-, how did you-?” Thorn stammered. Daria’s uncanny ability to snatch up threads of thought still left him speechless every time. But he was a man on a mission, and recovered quickly. “Consider the jewelry scrapped. I need to bring someone to you. He needs your help.”

Daria’s dark brown eyes lit up instantly. A smile played around her full lips, as she grabbed her datapad.

“You’ve got my attention,” she said with a raised brow.

“Excellent. It’s my ori’vod, Fox,” Thorn said, his face growing serious.

“Marshal Commander ‘Fall in line or fuck off’ Fox?” Daria asked.

Thorn nodded, “That’s the one. He practically lives in his office still, and he needs someone to get him out. Someone that makes him want to take his days off. Someone who he can’t intimidate. Who won’t take his shit.”

“You want me to find someone who’s not intimidated by the most intimidating authority figure on the planet? Possibly in the quadrant?”

“You’re Daria Trace. You found someone that made Wolffe smile. Not a ‘last thing you see before you die’ smile, but an ‘I’m so in love’ smile,” Thorn said, his bright eyes soft and hopeful.

“While everything you just said is true,” Daria conceded. “Commander Wolffe wanted my help. I feel like Commander Fox will toss me in a holding cell, if I so much as suggest he needs my assistance finding a date.”

“But he does,” Thorn insisted. “Just meet him. If he’s hopeless, he’s hopeless. If he’s not, promise me you’ll find someone for him.”

Daria adored the clones, but the way they wielded those big brown eyes was brutal. It was nearly impossible to deny them anything in one’s power.

“Bring him in,” she said finally, caving to Thorn’s masterful tooka eyes.

“Wizard! I knew you’d be up for it,” He cheered. “This means the world to me, Daria. He deserves to live his life.”

“You all do,” she assured him. “I promise I’ll do all I can. Now put on your helmet and get out of my office.”

Thorn shot her a winning smile, and left with a pep in his step. The door had barely closed behind him before Daria was researching Fox on the holonet while she twirled her new vibroblade.

***

Fox never thought he would miss the rules that led all of his vode to keep their relationships under wraps, but then Right to Love set up shop. He now had a battalion of love struck shock troopers, who couldn’t stop going on and on about their new partners, and their matchmakers.

Everywhere he went it was:

“Tarsi changed my life.”

“I owe Yen everything.”

“Daria is a miracle worker.”

Daria Fucking Trace. She was Thorn’s favorite, and he’d been bugging Fox to come and meet her ever since his first date with his now girlfriend. Every three to five business days, he’d be back at it again. Fox loved seeing his brothers happy, and thriving. Especially Thorn, even though he was testing Fox’s patience.

Fox had made the mistake of saying Thorn’s lunch looked tasty, and he’d eagerly explained his girlfriend made it for him, and Fox could have homemade lunches with love notes too, if he would just meet Daria.

“Look, Fox, I know you’re very attached to your nocturnal, work is my life persona, but we’re free men now,” Thorn said before biting into his lunch, humming with joy at the taste. “We deserve to be happy. Especially you, vod.”

“Free or not, we still have a job to do. One of us has to stay focused, so the rest can go off with pretty nat borns,” Fox countered, sipping on an iced caf.

“You should be out with pretty nat borns too. Why are you punishing yourself?”

“I’m not punishing myself. I’m just too busy for a relationship. Someone has to keep this place in order. As Marshal Commander,” Fox began.

“As Marshal Commander,” Thorn mocked with an exaggerated voice. “Just go with me to meet her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll kriff off. But if she can find you a nice young woman or man to get the stick out of your ass…”

“Will you leave me the kriff alone if I say yes?” Fox demanded.

“Yes! For a time.”

“And I won’t have to hear about Daria Trace for the next 30 rotations minimum?”

“Sure thing…but you’ll go?” Thorn looked so excited, even Fox felt himself melting a little. His soft spot for Thorn would never harden it seemed.

“Fine. Set it up.”

“YES!” Thorn cheered before taking a victorious bite of his lunch, grinning as he chewed.

***

Daria waltzed to the lobby promptly at 1259 hours, and found Blizzard obsessively straightening his desk.

“What are you doing, Blizz?” She asked with barely concealed amusement.

“The Commander Fox is coming here. I just want everything to be perfect.” He leaned closer and offered in a conspiratorial whisper, “He’s so kriffing cool. Total badass. I’m equally terrified and in awe.”

“Is that so?” Daria asked with a grin.

Blizzard nodded, and opened his mouth to say more, but at 1300 hours on the dot the door was opening to admit Commander Thorn with Commander Fox in tow.

Thorn always brought wonderful energy into any space, and Daria found his presence comforting if a bit wild.

Fox’s energy was an entirely different story. Contained, but utterly commanding with the fiercest protective intent. She couldn’t focus on anything else no matter how she tried, but the part that surprised her was the blissful feeling of being utterly secure. Safe. Relaxed.

Her constant desire to fidget was quelled. Her fingers rested in her pockets. Her weight held in place rather than shifting. Her heart was steady, calm.

Is this what other people feel like all of the time? Daria thought, offering a dazzling smile to the pair of commanders.

Thorn, never being one for ceremony, scooped Daria up into a bear hug, squishing her against his armored chest until she wheezed in protest.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she coughed out, as he placed her back on her feet.

“I forget how tiny and soft you are,” Thorn said as though he was amused.

“Scientists and therapists under 5’7” aren’t known for breeding kids of the blaster-toting, knife-gifting variety,” Daria said, lifting one expertly arched brow.

“It’s ok, Daria, we can’t all be perfect,” Thorn said, pulling his helmet off, and shaking his curls free. “This is Commander Fox. Fox, this is Daria Trace. The miracle matchmaker.”

“Is that what you’ve been telling people about me?” Daria asked, her face warming up instantly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure my exploits were greatly exaggerated. Especially coming from my dear little brother,” Fox said, his tone bored, and drier than Tatooine.

Oh this will be fun. Daria thought.

“Well, I’ll let you do your thing, and find Fox a wife or a husband. He’s not picky,” Thorn said with a smirk. “He can’t be with that face.”

The modulator did nothing to hide the sigh of sheer exhaustion from Fox.

“You have the same…clone humor. I should have expected nothing less from you,” Daria said with a soft laugh.

“Don’t indulge him,” Fox said tilting his head at her disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Follow me,” Daria said, with a laugh.

Fox followed the matchmaker down the hall. Everything about her said she’d never followed a rule in her life. From her mismatched earrings to the way she walked like there was music playing only she could hear. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the way her rich voice wrapped around the word Commander like the concept of authority amused her. It was completely unsurprising that Thorn was fond of her.

Reaching her office, Fox scanned the room quickly. A wall devoted to her successful matches no doubt, as he saw several of his brothers’ faces, including Thorn and Wolffe. There were a number of small toys scattered across Daria’s desk. Fox counted 10. Some brightly colored, some durasteel, and before she could stash it in a drawer…

“Is that a vibroblade?” he asked, folding his arms, as he took a seat at her desk.

“Gift from Thorn,” she said, closing the drawer where she kept the weapon turned fidget toy.

“Don’t cut yourself with it,” Fox said. “It’ll be a mountain of paperwork when you have to explain to a doctor how a matchmaker got stabbed with a vibroblade.”

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Commander,” Daria said, whipping the knife out of the drawer and spinning it quickly through her fingers while keeping her eyes on his visor.

“How long have you been practicing that?”

“Every free moment for 3 rotations,” she confessed.

Fox shook his head. That tracked.

“You didn’t come all the way here to discuss my knife skills. You need a date.”

“I’m only doing this to get Thorn off of my ass,” Fox said, folding his arms, and sitting back in the chair across from Daria.

“Ah so you’d like to hang out in my office, kill an hour, and then go back and pretend I’m a fake?” Daria asked, with a raised brow.

“Something like that.”

Daria laughed, and Fox noted the sound was pleasant, infectious. “Nope. My professional reputation is as sparkling as your service record, Commander.”

“Please. This is guess work at best,” He argued.

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“How?” He asked.

“Talk to me.”

“That’s what I’m doing now.”

Daria released a sigh, and fixed him with a look. “I mean about something real like why Thorn is so invested in your love life.”

“Because he’s a nosy little brother. As an only child, you wouldn’t know about that,” He said, relaxing his arms, as he made himself comfortable. He was disappointed when his revelation was met with a satisfied little grin instead of surprise.

“I hope you found something more interesting than that in my background check,” She said, placing her elbows on the desk, and resting her chin on her crossed fingers.

“Perhaps. I’d never show all of my cards right away, Trace,” He said with a light shrug. “And neither would you.”

You wanna play hardball, let’s play. She thought.

“Ok, you think I'm a fraud; I think you’re afraid.”

The lightest shift in energy in the room told Daria she’d struck a nerve.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, keeping his voice professional and even.

“A very long list of things that I couldn’t get through with 2 full rotations devoted to you, so let’s split my lunch, Thorn’ll think we did the whole thing, and you can go back to pretending you’re happy.” Reaching into her bottom desk drawer, Daria pulled out her lunch, and set about portioning out half for Fox.

“Here,” She said, passing him half of her pasta, and half of a large pastry.

He’d been on the verge of declining and walking out, but he was absolutely starving, and it looked so delicious. Especially the pastry. His sweet tooth wouldn’t let him say no. He accepted the food, and watched as Daria got comfortable in her chair, one leg tucked beneath her, as she started eating.

There was a light hiss, as Fox unsealed and removed his helmet. He was acutely aware of the matchmaker’s gaze, as she took in his features. He could hear her mentally noting the differences between him and his brothers. The scar on his nose, his curls held back by a red headband, the dark circles under his eyes.

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth, and resisted humming in pleasure. Of course it’s delicious. Perfect. He thought, annoyed.

“Good?” She asked, swallowing her current bite, and looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” He confessed. “I don’t really make time to cook.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did.”

They continued to eat in a surprisingly companionable silence until Fox bit into the pastry. Fuck, ok. He thought.

“I’m not pretending I’m happy,” he blurted out before taking another bite of the fluffy treat.

“I didn’t peg you for a liar, Commander.”

“I’m not lying,” He shot back, brow furrowed.

“You were bred for war, told you’d see the stars, and got stuck in this corrupt skughole,” Daria said, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Your life is your own now, but you insist on clinging to what you know because it’s safe, simple, comforting.”

“You don’t have a sense of duty, clearly,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, I do. I just also believe that my life is mine, and feeling fulfilled is important. That can look different for different people,” she replied. “Do you feel fulfilled?”

He stared down at his food for a moment. “You’re irritating, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

After another long moment, Fox confessed, “Maybe coming home to someone wouldn’t be terrible, but they’d have to understand the job comes first. My hours aren’t normal, and I don’t dance.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Daria said, scooping up her datapad and making some notes while she munched on half of the pastry. “Do you like animals?”

“No.”

“This is going to take forever, if you keep lying to me,” she said without missing a beat as she marked yes.

“How do you do that? It’s exhausting,” Fox snapped, shoving the last bite of pastry into his mouth.

“It’s always been like that,” Daria looked up then, and fixed him in her gaze. “You have a sweet tooth. It’s bad.”

“So find me a baker.”

“It’s not that easy.”

After another hour of getting raked over the coals by the matchmaker, Daria escorted Fox back to the lobby.

“I’ll call you,” she said with a mysterious little smile. “Bye, Thorn.”

“Bye, Daria. Thank you,” Thorn called as she made her way back down the hallway.

Fox watched her go before slipping out of the front door and taking a deep breath once it had closed behind him.

“She’s amazing, right?” Thorn asked, joining him.

Fox pulled on his helmet. “She’s as obnoxious as you without the shared DNA to make it tolerable.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Thorn said, as he donned his own helmet. “Let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

“I already ate. Go take your girlfriend to a food stand, and I’ll see you in a little while,” Fox ordered.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thorn replied, taking off towards the train.

Alone with his thoughts, Fox wandered back towards the barracks.

Daria Fucking Trace was an absolute menace. There was no doubt about it.

***

No less than 15 minutes after Fox’s departure, Daria was twirling her blade, and flipping through profiles. No one currently in the system would suit the salty Commander, but she was determined to find someone who could make that man smile. He might have been hard on the outside, but those soft insides deserved someone who would cherish him.

[doki-doki-imagines]

We all need Reo and Nagi in the form of animals-

Seishiro Nagi - Blue chow chow -You didn't expect to be woken up at 7 a.m. by a loud knocking at your door, so still grumpy you walk towards the sound to understand who dared to wake you up so early on your free day. -It is Reo, mask and gloves on and with a ball of blue fluff in his hands with his equally blue tongue sticking out. "Long story, this is Nagi, I'd take care of him but I'm allergic to dogs. Tomorrow everything should be fine-" the purple hair boy pushes the dog in your arms "take good care of him, we have a match soon" The door slammed at your face, stuck at your place with a ball of fluff in your hands. -Luckily Seishiro habits didn't change in his dog form, he slept, eat, sat on your lap, half of the morning was spent like that; rinse and repeat. -"Ohh look there is a new event! Can't wait to get the new characters." You smile at your phone. -What you didn't see was Seishiro raising his head from your lap, ears alert. -"Ehi ouch! Don't bite me- not even my hoodie, Seishiro!" He starts to pull on your clothes, your hoodie or your pants to make him follow towards…his phone in your bedroom? Did Seishiro forget it when he visited you yesterday? -"I have enough of my events I don't wanna-" He closes the door. You look down at him. "For once I'm way taller than you, you can't scare-" He barks. He dares to bark at you. He is more fur than voice and still dared to look dangerous to you. Your falls on your knees, a pain where your heart is placed; he is too cute for this world. -You end up doing his games till you pass out on the couch, being able to move just for snack and bathroom breaks was exhausting. -"(Y/n) is morning wake up, c'mon I can't reach my phone" It wasn't Seishiro's voice to wake you up, but his weight on your body, but you were too tired to pull him off even if your lungs screamed for a break. "Take your damn phone and let me sleep Seishiro" He doesn't reply, phone in his hand already checking his online ranking. "You made me lose an event" Your eyes open wide "What? I didn't even pee for your damn game-" You can't finish the phrase, his index finger pressed on your lips. "No excuses, time to be punished for your misdeeds." Your eyes would have come out in a typical cartoonish style. This egoist, always getting what he wanted, was a real villain even with fluffy blue ears on top of his cloud-white hair.

Mikage Reo - Red fox -It's Ba-ya that wakes you up, your phone loudly ringing, sun just rising. "(Y/n)-san, sorry to bother you early in the morning, but we have a problem." "A problem? Is Reo fine?" "More or less, but it's easier to explain if we came to your house, is it fine?" "No problem, see you here." -That's how you find yourself sitting on your couch with a red fox with some purple stripe resting on your lap -"Mikage corporation developed a new system so you'll understand what he is saying to you. I wouldn't have bothered, but the young master asked for your company." "Strange since yesterday he shouted at me something along the 'you are insufferable fuck off' lines" Ba-ya looks down, thinking the exact words to tell you next to sugar the pill. You scoff interrupting her train of thoughts "Don't worry, I'll take care of him". -He isn't as extrovert as usual, still knowing what happened the previous day was exaggerated, but after petting his thick fur for a while you got tired. "Wanna monetize this situation Reo?" His ears twitch, looking at you straight in the eyes. "What's your idea?" The voice is robotic and way too high, but you suppose that even Mikage corporation couldn't make a perfectly working translator. -The amount of photos you posted was disgusting but he was too cute to let this occasion go, keeping some of them for the months to come. -Reo obviously loved the idea, posing like a model, searching for the best angles that would make people scream "Cute~" all over the world. "Reo you are the cutest." "Like always, isn't it?" He says, pulling his head up, nose up in the air, you could imagine Reo would have even brushed off his hair in typical film style if he still had his hands.

-"Reo you are already a star, 16k likes in 3 hours better than when you are human." "Are you saying I'm cuter a fox?" "…" "Hey!" -Your mood improve drastically, who would have thought that your boyfriend turning into a fox was going to be this good? -You fall asleep next to each other on the sofa, his big tails tickling your chin. -"Hey, sleepy head I'm back to normal~" Your boyfriend, finally back to normal is laying on your chest, purple eyes sparkling, fox ears and tail still present, thick tail swinging back and forth. "Don't I look the best? Let's shoot some photos 'till I'm like this." He says phone already in his hand. "But later it is your turn to model for me, wanna grasp all your cuteness darling~"

[allyftt]

A quiet night

Hello! I hope you enjoy this little angst fic I wrote! Sorry for all the tears hehe- love yall ;D

_____________________________________

The time hit 9:00 pm as you sat at the kitchen table, eating alone for what seemed to be the hundredth time this year. You had grown used to being alone all the time since your very busy partner always had to leave the comfort of your home to take yet another mission upon himself. You couldn’t blame him since he was the one who accepted the title “General mahamatra” once again after escaping the akademiya. He had been betrayed by the sage and the other Matras once, but a new sage was in charge now and Cyno could start over. He was just never home due to his work even on his free days. It never made you stop loving him and you never forced him to stay, but you would lie if you said that it was easy to live alone after you promised a forever together just two months before. 

Scooping up a piece of the food in front of you, you couldn’t help but cringe at the fact that it tasted bitter. Not only had the food turned cold but this was your favorite dish, so the factor of the bitter taste lingering in your mouth made you feel more depressed. You got up with a sigh and walked to the trashcan to throw away the last bit of food on your plate. When did your favorite food become this bitter? Did you forget to add seasoning or was it the fact that the kitchen felt so cold and empty without Cyno?

Walking to and fro from the table to your used to be shared bed had never felt so heavy as if a burden so heavy even the strongest warrior would waver. Everything felt so lonely and cold now that one more person was missing from the shared house, the furnished building felt like a foreign place and for once you felt so small in this abode. You could only find solace in the fact you got company from the evening breeze, wishing that the hug from the wind was from someone else. 

You changed out of your clothes and laid down in the same cold bed that you used to share with Cyno. The house was so quiet and you hated it. You hated being alone, you hated being stuck at home, and you hated the fact that he left with a kiss and never told you when he would be back. It wasn’t fair how he could just bring up his work in the middle of the dinner and just announce that he would be leaving and you had to accept it. Did he ever think about what you think or how you felt?

No of course he didn’t. Because being a General mahamatra meant that he had to be busy and away from you a lot. He was forbidden from putting his lover in front of his work. 

You turned around in bed and looked at the frame with a picture of you and Cyno. The memory of meeting Tighnari in Gandharva ville suddenly filled your thoughts. He insisted on taking a photo of Cyno and you as a memory for the future. Cyno had been camera shy at first but you managed to convince him to take one. He wrapped an arm around you and met your gaze as Tighnari snapped a photo. The fox looked at the photo surprised but smiled softly upon seeing his jackal friend’s soft gaze. His love for you was shown brightly through this picture, but that was before he returned to the akademiya and started working for the sage again. 

Tears fell down your eyes and you sighed deeply, putting it face down as you turned your back to the door and hugged yourself under the blanket. You looked out through the window at the moon that shone brightly in the sky and you couldn’t help but wonder if Cyno looked at the moon too and thought about you. 

Meanwhile, there was a certain general walking home tired. He had a jackal piece on his head and white silky hair flowing in the cold breeze. He held his golden spear tight in his hand as he entered Aaru village.

Not knowing if he ever told you, the proud general had wanted to make you remember that he would always come back at the end of the day. He had priorities and responsibilities for the people in Sumeru, but he wouldn’t hesitate when he saw you. His heart beats loudly whenever you’re near and it stopped whenever you’re not here. 

His way towards home was sort of unfamiliar, he hadn’t been home for at least a week now but he was eager to find you again. He was excited even to cuddle or share dinner with you again, the general mahamatra was every stoic around others, but with his lover, he was nothing but an obedient dog. His tired feet started to accelerate when he saw the house within his sight. 

The sound of the door unlocking caught your attention as you sat up in bed surprised. Could it be your lover who was finally back after a week? You threw the blanket off yourself as you hurried down to the door. The sight of your lovely partner made the ache in your heart disappear just for a while. It almost felt like you fell in love all over again every time he came home and took off that jackal piece. His gaze met yours as he smiled softly and placed the headpiece on a stool. He opened his arms and your eyes swelled up in tears as you ran to him and hugged him tightly. Cyno wrapped his strong arms around you, burying his nose into your hair. He took a deep breath and gave out a satisfied sigh. He was finally home with the person he loved. 

He heard your sobs against his chest, making his heart ache. Cyno was well aware of the loneliness and the pain he caused you every time he left the house. He stroked your hair calmly. “Don’t cry my ruby, I’m home now” he whispered against the top of your head. You couldn’t help but smile softly at how gentle he was with you. His gentle touches showed how much he missed you during the time he was gone and you could feel how sorry he was by the way he left small kisses on your head and didn’t plan on letting go. 

A chuckle escaped your lips as you wiped the tears away and nuzzled your face into his chest. “You idiot, it’s happy tears because I missed you so much..” you spoke up, wincing at the way your voice broke mid-sentence. He let go of you a little and lifted your head by two fingers under your chin. You looked into his crimson eyes for the first time in a while as he stared back into yours. How can someone, who dances in the sun with a vision at your side, be so in love with someone dark and mysterious like him? 

He wasn’t quite sure of the answer but he didn’t want to know either because it felt like he would lose you if he figured out the truth. Cyno leaned down closer to your face and closed the gap between the two of you. The taste of his sun-kissed lips felt like heaven to you as his arms wrapped around your waist. It has been too long since he felt the taste of your sweet lips and tonight was one of the rare moments he wished that he was a normal guy like all the students in the akademiya. The general mahamatra wished that he could stay home all day and wake up to your beautiful sleeping face every morning, but he couldn’t so moments like these when he was home were very rare. 

Cyno deepened the kiss, savoring every flavor he could taste on your lips. It was an addiction he never knew he had until tonight. You placed your hands on his cheeks and made some space between you two to catch your breath. A string of saliva was hanging between your lips and you both were panting. No one could be blind enough to not see the lust in his eyes at the moment and all you could do was giggle as you moved your hands to his hair. Cyno’s hands moved to hold your hips as you ran your hands through his white locks and untangled every knot that had been caused by the wind.

Your eyes wandered over every scar, every feature, every freckle on his face, and upper body as your hands slowly found their place on his shoulders. You met his eyes and whispered, “It’s too late my love. We got tomorrow too!” you smiled softly. His eyes softened more and if you looked closely you could see the heart-shaped irises in his crimson eyes. “I hope you know what day it is..” you teased a little bit, causing the male to tickle you a little and wrap you in his arms. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “How could I forget the beautiful day I decided to ask this breathtaking lady to be the love of my life?” he smiled against your ear, causing a blush to spread to the tip of your ears. 

“Such a tease, Cyno!” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he laughed as he planted one last kiss on your cheek. “Just for you my dove” was all he said before he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your shared bed that finally didn’t feel so empty anymore. He laid you down as he took off all the accessories and clothes he had these days, leaving only the shorts on. You snuggled down under the blanket and watched him change before walking to you and leaving a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll just go and shower quickly, I’m back soon” You nodded and he walked to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t longer than 5 minutes and when Cyno got back, you had already fallen asleep. He smiled softly as he removed the towel around his hips and put on new pair of underwear. Cyno made his way to the other side of the bed and laid down behind your carefully to not wake you up. The last thing he would want right now is to wake you up and risk you not being able to sleep again. He wrapped the same blanket you had over himself and felt the warmth coming from you, making his tense muscles finally relax. Cyno wrapped his arm around your hips and pulled you closer to him before leaving a kiss on your cheek with a soft “goodnight my love” whispered to your ear. 

The next morning came faster than anyone thought. The morning breeze came in from the window you left open last night which woke Cyno up pretty early. It wasn’t like he was forced to go somewhere but it was a habit to wake up early whenever he felt any disturbance in his sleep. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking at the time which read ‘5 am’. It was still too early to get out of bed, especially on his day off after weeks of staying in Sumeru city to help the sages and Lord kusanali. 

Suddenly feeling a movement under him made him look down only to see your sleeping face against his chest. You must’ve turned around during your sleep and were now nuzzling close to his chest. He smiled softly and leaned down to leave a kiss on your forehead making a smile creep up on your face. Cyno felt like he could lay here and stare at your face for hours, heck even days if he could. A buzz suddenly brought him back to reality, making him turn around to look at the akasha terminal on the nightstand. He couldn't believe it when he looked at the message that had been sent to him. They had a new mission and needed the general mahamatra to come in and work again. How could they be so selfish? It was not only his day off, but it was also the anniversary between him and you. Cyno knew how sad you would become if he left for work, but he couldn’t change anything right now. 

He struggled to get out of bed, in fear of waking you up and having to explain why he was leaving. He wouldn’t be able to bare the upset expression on your face when he told you that he had to leave. Cyno put on his work outfit before moving on to the accessories. He took the akasha from the nightstand, looking at it with so much hate until the point where his hand started to shake and he was ready to break the akasha in half. A sound came from the bed, making Cyno turn his head towards you with widened eyes. He feared that you were awake but when he saw you still sleeping he sighed in relief and decided to leave before it was too late. 

The sun rose to the sky, creating a beautiful day perfect for a celebration. Although the guilt in Cyno’s body did not agree with that sentiment, like a parasite eating him up from the inside he couldn’t help but worry. 

Sand ran through his toes like an ever-reminding fact that time was running out for his and his lover's special day. Making his way towards home had never felt this slow before and he had this urge in him to run, Cyno had hoped that he would make it home in time for at least a movie date. It may now be too late for a dinner date or fun at a restaurant, but it was never too late for movies. 

Or so he thought. 

When he arrived back home the sun had already fallen down and the moon's gentle embrace covered the whole ground of Teyvat. Hesitating to unlock the door that barricaded him from his lover, Cyno let out a sigh and started to make his way inside. His resolve to fix the celebration was stronger than his fear of an upset partner. Casting his eyes down he hoped to see a shadow or maybe even light, but he was met with nothing but darkness. Fear seized his heart as thousands of dangerous scenarios flashed through his mind, did you get kidnapped? Did you get hurt or worse, did you get killed on the date of your anniversary with him? 

His eyes finally went up and there on the kitchen table sat his dearest individual. Light from a candle caressed your face and a warm blanket draped over your shoulder, tears were evident and the red and puffy eyes were a bigger sign of an upset significant other. Cyno quickly tried to apologize and make some sort of apology, but never got the chance as a pillow was thrown at him. 

“Hey! What was that for?” The albino asked with a hint of hurt, he didn’t understand why you were so upset. Sure, today was a very important day, but more of them will come in later years. 

“Take a look at the clock,” You said “Just look!” Tears streamed even harder down your cheeks. You stared at his visible eye making its way toward the clock hanging by the wall of your lovely abode. 

23:59. Not even a movie night was salvageable at this point. The day was already ending, but as much as Cyno felt regret, he couldn’t share the sentiment for you had fallen for a matra, the general of Mahamatra. He had a duty and you should understand that he couldn’t be lenient towards his job, it was either the people of Sumeru or you. 

His duties were sadly just too important for him to abandon and he wanted you to understand. 

“My desert flower, please don’t be sad. We have next year to make up for this year.” He started with a whisper “I can’t just abandon the people of Sumeru, they need me-”

“And I don’t?!” You refuted with angry tears.

He swallowed hard at the sound of your broken voice ringing in his ears. “ That’s not what I meant my rub- ” he whispered but you spoke up before he could finish his sentence

“Well, that’s what it fucking sounds like Cyno” The way you said his name made his heart ache. He had heard his name million times but never hated the name so bad as when it came out of your mouth in moments like these. It had a sour taste in it and he hated it. 

“I have been supporting you ever since you came back to the akademiya and never said a word to you about how upset I am. You’re smart enough to realize it yourself but our relationship is slowly falling apart Cyno, I don’t want to live like this anymore.” You exclaimed, feelings of frustration gnawing at every inch of your body.

“I don’t want to wake up one day and never know when you will be back. Every mission you take is so dangerous, that is why the anniversary is so important to me. Now I see that this was one-sided. The worry and panic I feel are all for naught cause you don’t care” Strangely everything that left your mouth was eerily calm. 

His heart broke down at the words coming from your mouth. This must’ve been something you had been thinking about for a while. It wasn’t something that just came out of the blue and he knew you well enough to know that you always consider your words before you speak. This was his fault and he had no one else to blame for the emptiness than himself.

He looked at you with sorrowful eyes as you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. “The people of Sumeru can be handled by Lord kusanali for one day, they won’t be dying if their general mahamatra isn’t there. Do you even realize what an easy target you are Cyno?” you crossed your arms and hot tears rolled down. 

His eyes widened at your words and he opened his mouth to say something but not a single word came out, not even a single sound that told you that you were wrong. You felt the pain overtake your body, making you look down at your feet and sob. “I knew I was right..”

He teared up after hearing your question to him and the constant nagging in his heart made him feel so sick to his stomach. 

“You’re wrong” he finally spoke up. You looked up at him and for a moment you hoped that he would say that you were wrong for assuming that he was all that naive. How could you be ever so wrong for assuming that? 

“The fact that I am naive is wrong, I’ve done this job before and I know what I am doing. People would die if I’m not present at the right time, all the people that have died at my hands are those who deserved judgment. You have to understand that I have no right to talk against anyone’s orders! Believe me that I never want to leave you… and I love you with my whole world and life my ruby..” he crossed his arms and looked at you. 

“ and there you go again, defending yourself with your “righteous ways”. Why don't you go and marry them if you love to work so much that not even a single day can be spent with the woman you promised to love until death do us part?” you pointed towards the door with tears rolling down your face. 

“You’re overreacting” was all he said before a deep silence filled the room. You turned to the chair and took the blanket before pushing the chair into the table. “Like I said there will be time for our anniversary next year. Maybe if you would’ve stayed in the akademiya you would see how busy and important it is to work there” 

Suddenly a voice came from the akasha as a man announced another mission in the desert this time. When the general had finished speaking he looked up just to be met by an empty kitchen. The candle had been blown out and darkness embraced him together with the sadness and anger in his chest. He turned around and saw you walking towards the shared bedroom. 

“So you’re going to give me the silent treatment? Fine! Then I might as well take the mission if you’re going to overreact like this.” he said irritated walking to the door. You mumbled something to yourself, Cyno with his keen hearing heard it and stopped at the heart of his tracks 

“Do whatever you want. You’re dead in my eyes”

He looked back towards you, but you were already in the room. It felt like someone stabbed him with a knife as he stepped out of the house and closed the door, locking it behind him. 

Cyno summoned his spear as he walked out to the ancient desert land. All your words were still fresh in his head and he couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing you said. He didn’t mean to cause such a big misunderstanding, he wanted you to understand that he had to be away. Yet, he only had himself to blame for your anger, he could’ve taken today off and spent the day with you. He could’ve declined the mission… He could’ve.

You were right and he hated it. Never had he heard you express how upset it made you feel when he left, you never stopped him from going either which made him feel relieved then, but now it only brought more salt to the open wounds that were left after tonight's argument. 

Because being alone in the dark and quiet desert only made the thoughts of the fight come back. There was no time to think about that right now he told himself and tried his best to focus on the road in front of him.

He arrived at the place of the mission and signaled the sage about his arrival. He took off the akasha and started looking around the place for any suspicious activity but found nothing more than an empty camp. The eremites must’ve left shortly and would be back soon so all he had to do was wait, but that’s exactly what he shouldn’t do right now. 

Cyno tried to scan every corner he could see, in case they were hiding and waiting for the right moment to attack him. Though he realized soon enough that this was highly impossible to do when all he could think about was you and the thick air that was left after your argument.

Suddenly there was a sound and a widening of red eyes. Cyno turned around— just in time to see an eremite behind him with a silver dagger plunge through Cyno’s back. For a moment, time seems to stop. Neither of them were moving from their place as the moment sank into both of their skulls. Did Cyno just lose his guard and let himself get stabbed by a lowlife eremite? 

The Eremite looked at the blade horrified, he couldn't believe that he had been able to sneak up on Cyno and stab him. The man seemed to have gotten back to his senses faster than Cyno and a grin formed on his lips. He yanked out the dagger and Cyno crumpled to the ground as the time hurtled back at full speed. 

“I finally got you General mahamatra. Here’s the judgment for all your sins. Now you die out here all alone” was all he said before he yanked accessories from Cyno that was worth something and ran away before Cyno could catch him. The mahamatra tried to get up again to walk home and seek help or to catch this damn eremite, but he couldn’t move a muscle. 

He turned around and lay on his back in the sand, looking up at the starry night as he slowly felt his body go cold. He couldn’t move his fingers or his legs and his head was spinning. Was this the destiny of the General mahamatra? This was how his life ended and he just had to accept it. 

A sudden thought of you appeared in his head, his feelings overflowing and so does his tears. He had left you sad at home probably thinking that he hated you. He regretted all choices he made tonight. He should’ve turned around and kissed you, he should’ve told you that he loved you, he should’ve hugged you and reassured you that everything was alright, but he didn’t and he would never be able to do it either. He would never see your beautiful face again and that breathtaking smile that always lit up his days. He would never be able to greet you with a kiss or ever tell you that he loved you. 

The corner of his lips turned up when his eye caught the sight of your favorite constellation in the sky. His body started to feel more numb and it was almost like his body had given up completely, but he wanted to see you one last time.

He heard his name being called from a distance but didn’t have the power to turn his head toward the voice. It did sound like your voice at first, but he must’ve imagined things. Why would you leave your safe home to come and look for him? 

Though he did want to hear your voice one last time tonight. You could tell him how much you hated him, how selfish he was, or that you loved him. Whatever was fine with him, he just wanted to hear your voice. 

Your face appeared in front of his and he looked weakly into your eyes with his smile growing wider. Was he hallucinating right now?

You scratched your knees in the hard sand but didn’t care. What was more important was that the one you had sworn to love all your life lay in front of you and was minutes from dying. You were crying and he hated it, “Cyno, What happened to you?” you asked him. He stayed quiet at first, admiring your beautiful eyes because he didn’t want to reveal the truth that he had been stabbed, but he couldn’t lie to you.

Cyno raised his hand to your cheek and caressed it. “ I lost focus and got stabbed..” he whispered. Eyes started scanning his body, looking for the stab wound to be able to put pressure on it. He understood what you were doing and took your hand in his, caressing it. “There’s no point in putting pressure on it. It’s on my back.. just let me see your beautiful face and smile my dessert flower” 

You gritted your teeth and tried your best to keep the tears from flooding. “You’ll be alright Cyno. You got to stay with me.. I can’t lose you!” you begged, but you knew as much as him that his time was now cut short in Teyvat and he would be a part of Celestia.

One thing Cyno knows, better than almost anyone, is how to spot a lie and he knows that you were lying, every single time you told him that things were going to be alright, he just knew. But he was too tired to think about that right now. All he wanted to do was stay here, breathing in the smell of the cold night and your perfume while you carefully card fingers through his hair. 

You lifted his upper body into your embrace, wiped your tears, and moved his hair from his face. He looked up with tears in his eyes and you could hear how he struggled to breathe. 

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve considered your feelings before my selfish ones. I thought that I could finish my missions and then have all time in the world for you, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry for that” he whispered. 

“I forgive you Cyno.. please stop talking and stay with me..” you sobbed. Your gazes met and it was like he fell in love all over again. He wiped some of the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. 

The world around him started to fade, and even the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore. He felt like he was drifting, far away. It was so hard to hold on with the last of his strength bleeding out from his broken grasp…so hard to keep his eyes open…

“My ruby, Could you do something for me?” he mumbled. Your chest clenched at the sound of his weak voice, but you nodded either way. “Of course, anything for you Cyno..” 

He smiled softly and tilted his head towards your chest to feel your warmth one last time. “Could you smile for me..? I want to see that beautiful smile you always have whenever I see you..”

You looked at him surprised for a moment before taking a shaky breath. One selfish side of you didn’t want to fulfill that wish because you believed that he would make it alive… he had to, but the other side wanted to do what he asked to. He suddenly tilted his head to look up at you since you never gave him an answer. 

You met his gaze and caressed his cheek with a weak smile. Even if your lips were trembling a lot, you still managed to keep a big enough smile to make your lover smile back at you. He seemed satisfied and it made you happy. 

The world around him faded, and even the pain didn’t seem so bad anymore…he felt like he was drifting, far away. It’s so hard to hold on now, with the last of his strength bleeding out from his broken grasp…so hard to keep his eyes open…

He exhales, and his eyes slip shut, and everything fades until there is nothing left at all.

As the moon was up, many stars created beautiful constellations and a new star found its place somewhere in your favorite constellation. 

_______________________________________

Bye bye my small butterflies ;D

Like, comments and reposts are much appriciated!!

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

It's the little things (4)

Previous / Next

The gang was out on a Saturday evening, Price's idea, and stopped for coffee. The outdoor terrace was mostly full of people taking advantage of the warm weather, but they found a table big enough for them, next to a group of people with several dogs.

Dogs who were so happy to receive attention.

Gaz and Riot immediately were all over the floor playing with the pups, while Soap protested loudly from his seat and Price and Ghost went inside to order.

"Hi, good evening. We need five drinks, name's John" Price dealt with the bartender, a bored looking man who didn't seem to find strange to serve two big muscled men, one of them wearing a black balaclava. "Two black coffee... two macchiattos... and another macchiatto, but this one with warm milk and not pipping hot. Thank you... here you go, I'll pay with card"

Ghost was looking out the window, waiting to help Price carry the drinks outside. Gaz was lying on the ground with a Dachshund and a Fox Terrier proudly slumped over his chest, and Riot was kneeling, squeezing and scratching the ears of an elated Irish Wolfhound whose tail was wiggling hard enough to hit its owners legs like a whip as they laughed.

Even Soap was patting nervously the head of a yellow Labrador Retriever who had decided the Scot was its current best friend and sat on his shoes.

"Here you go, five drinks under the name John" The bartender called out, and Ghost turned around to grab one of the card holders. But first, he checked each of the macchiatto cups.

All three of them were burning to the touch.

"Which one is the warm one?"

Price stopped, with his hand already on the door handle, and looked back when he heard the tone in Ghost's voice. The bartender shrugged, and the Captain almost smirked. Oh boy.

"Made all three the same"

"He asked for one to be warm" Ghost's voice wasn't particularly hard, yet, but the bartender had to be some kind of special stupid to not sense that he was in danger, in Price's opinion.

"What does it matter, mate? It's not that hot"

Price walked back to the bar counter, ready to intervene, but the looming giant was faster.

"You either remake it, or I throw it at your face and you tell me if it's that hot or not... mate"

The bartender looked up, and for the first time seemed to have a bit of worry about his well-being. As he hurried to remake the drink, Price chuckled, nudging Ghost's side with his elbow, holding the other card tray with the black coffees.

The Lieutenant just ignored him, his smoldering look fixated on the bartender to make sure the twat did as told this time.

Five minutes later they were at the table with the drinks, waiting for Riot and Gaz to get off the ground now that the dog owners were leaving. Soap sighed with relief.

Riot sat beside Ghost with a wide happy smile after being smothered in love by the dogs, and looked at the three macchiattos, hesitating. The Lieutenant grabbed the one with a sharpie mark on the side and handed it to her.

"Oh... it's warm" Her smile was relieved now, with her scar it was difficult to have too hot or too cold food or beverages, the tissue was very sensitive. Happily, she started adding sugar and stirring.

Gaz and Soap were laughing, comparing their own macchiattos, and Price sipped his black coffee, smiling indulgently. These moments with his kids were what made everything else bearable.

Still grinning, he observed while Riot kept explaining something about the dogs to Ghost, who was just looking at her, his balaclava hooked over his nose to sip his coffee from time to time.

Oh, if only he could sneak a photo to show Heather.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Blinding Light Chapter Two

Hey guys! I just finished chapter two so I figured I might as well post it! I’m glad that you guys liked Chapter One. It has some formatting issues so I’ll try to fix those one I’m on my computer. I’m currently posting this from iPad at work, so it makes the formatting a bit odd. I hope you guys show this one as much love as chapter one! Thanks!

Hybrids: Munchkin Cat Y/N (Omega), Fox Jin (Omega), Panther Yoongi (Alpha), Golden Retriever J-Hope (Beta), Wolf RM (Alpha), Calico Cat Jimin (Omega), Tiger V (Beta), Bunny Jungkook (Beta)

Word Count: 4, 121

Masterlist

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

When I wake, I feel more rested than I ever have. Yoongi’s peppery scent wraps around me. I’m tucked into his side, my cheek resting on his chest. His breathing is calm and even. He seems to still be in a deep sleep. I gently try to disentangle myself.

“Where are you going?” His sleepy voice is a little deeper than his normal voice.

“Bathroom,” I whisper back. He lets me go, his arm lifting to point at a cracked door. When I emerge again, Yoongi sits up on the edge of the bed, blinking blearily at me. He holds out a hand to me, which I take quickly.

He pulls me toward him, his head nuzzling into my stomach. My hands go to his hair, my fingers running through is longish hair. He purrs, his hands resting on my hips. We stay like that for a while. He finally pulls back, after a while.

“We got you some clothes. We got a couple different sizes, so we’ll return whatever doesn’t fit,” He leans down and picks up a large shopping bag from beside the bed.

I cycle through a few clothes that are way too big before ending up in a pair of bicycle shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When I come out, Yoongi has also changed clothes.

“Lets go eat some breakfast,” He finally stands, taking my hand and leading me through the massive house, down the stairs, and into the dining room.

The table is overwhelming. It’s covered in food and surrounded by people. I end up seated between Yoongi and Hoseok. The pink haired Calico ends up seated across from me. I watch nervously as the boys load up their places. I recognize some of the, like Jungkook, Namjoon, and Jin, but I don’t know the name of the Omega Calico or the Tiger hybrid next to him.

“Y/N?” The voice pulls me from my daze. I look around to see everyone staring at me. I blush, ducking my head.

“Do you want me to make your plate?” Hoseok asks worriedly. I shake my head quickly and grab a few items near me. A waffled, a fried egg, and a few slices of bacon.

“Orange juice?” It’s the calico this time. I lift my glass and he pours some,” I’m Jimin, by the way.”

“Taehyung!” The tiger offers a boxy smile. I smile back shyly.

I eat as much as I can. This feels like a treat but I haven’t eaten consistently over the years. I don’t want to make myself sick. I finish about half the egg and waffle, but I also ate three slices of bacon.

“How are you feeling this morning?” This time, it’s Jin.

“I feel fine. No soreness or anything,” It feels eerie when everyone goes quiet when I speak.

“I have to ask you some questions after breakfast,” Namjoon, his gray wolf ears flicking.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi’s tone is warning,” She’s not ready.”

“It’s okay,” My voice is stronger than I thought it would be,” I-I want to talk.”

“I”m staying with her,” Yoongi grumbles, turning back to his breakfast. They all chatter through breakfast and then I’m in the library with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jungkook. I rub my hands together nervously.

“I’m going to show you some pictures. Tell me what you know about the people on them. Take your time. Anything you can tell us will help,” Namjoon has a stack of photos in front of him.

“I don’t know anyone’s names,” I chew on my bottom lip nervously.

“That’s okay!” Jungkook is cheerful,” We just need leverage.”

“Are you ready?” Namjoon gives me a comforting smile. I nod once and he lifts the first picture. Images flash through my mind. Blood, pain, fear. My hand curled into a fist, my breathing becoming shaky. A warm hand covers mine and I look up to see Jungkook, a worried look in his eyes. I take a deep breath.

“Brown bear hybrid. He’s not the bottom of the ladder but he’s not the top either. I think he’s a drug manufacturer. I could usually smell it on him. Had a preference for whips and choking,” While I speak, Jungkook’s hand stays on mine. I study his tattoos, ignoring the lump in my throat,” He was trying to work his way up.”

We proceed like this for a while. At some point, I end up in Yoongi’s lap as he scents me. I don’t know if it’s to calm me or him, but it soothed my trembling. Jungkook sits on the floor in front of us. I play with his hair, needing to keep my hands busy. His foot twitches every once in a while. The last picture causes my hands to still and my eyes to blur. My chest heaves.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jungkook is kneeling before but I didn’t see him move, his hands wiping tears I didn’t know were falling,” We can stop. This is enough. Lets stop.”

“I only met him once,” My voice is empty, hollow,” The day I almost escaped. He’s a bodyguard for the boss. He was supposed to teach me a lesson. He’s an Alpha with a dominance issue. He forcibly marked me. My punishment was to deal the mark rejection that followed. It took three months.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Yoongi’s voice is growled.

Mark rejection happens when an Omega is forcibly marked. Their body rejects the mark and they go through searing physical pain. Even breathing can feel like fire. The duration changes depending on the Omega and usually requires medical care.

“Lets finish up here. You need to take a breather,” Namjoon sets down his pen and walks over to us. His lips press to the top of my head,” No one will hurt you ever again.”

“I **need** to stay with her. If I go there now, no one will leave there alive,” Yoongi stands with me in his arms.

“Hyung, you know we won’t be able to get information out of them without you,” Jungkook whines,” Plus, she should spend time with all her mates. You’re hogging her.”

“Jimin and Tae are home. She’ll be safe with them,” Namjoon gives Yoongi a pointed look. He sighs, seeming resigned.

I can’t help but feel a surge of panic at the though of Yoongi being away from me. Our bond seems to have cemented itself. He had been my rock, my protector. Yoongi seems just as reluctant. He scents me throughly before the others can convince him to leave.

“Man, he really doesn’t trust us, does he?” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“We only set the kitchen on fire once! And no one was even hurt!” Taehyung whines.

“Well, we did set Jin’s hair on fire that one time. He wore a hat for two months,” Jimin lounges next to me on the couch. His cinnamon apple scent brings me comfort that can only be offered by a fellow Omega. Taehyung’s scent reminds me of snow. Cold, fresh, and oddly exhilarating.

“Okay, so, I know Yoongi told you about the whole mate thing, but do you have any questions? Hyung isn’t much of an explainer,” Taehyung sits in the chair diagonal to the couch.

“I don’t think so? Should I?” I chew on my bottom lip nervously.

I understand the basic concept of mates. A group of people whose animal counterparts draw them together. The groups usually range between five and ten people. I did hear about a pack of thirteen once but it’s rare. No one knows what draws them together or why. Mates bring you friendship, companionship, love, a support system. It depends on what you need. Most end up falling in love with each other. They patchwork themselves into the pieces of your heart. I never really expected to find mates, not really. Not everyone does.

“But?” Jimin prompts, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I just… wasn’t ever prepared for this option so I don’t know how to feel,” I feel like I’m staring holes in the carpet,” I don’t know how to be a mate.”

“Nobody does. You learn it through spending time with your mates. Every relationship is different. We have to learn about you too,” Jimin’s hand touches mine gently. I didn’t realize my fingers were digging into my thighs.

“Why don’t we just do something fun, instead. No need for everything to be so serious so quickly,” Taehyung gives me a cute, boxy smile,” I promised Chim I would teach him some pottery. I can teach you too.”

The clay splattered apron ends up being quite big. Taehyung’s hands engulf mine as he shows me how to shape and press my hands. Once I have the basics, he goes to help Jimin.

I quickly become absorbed. Keeping my hands busy makes everything else fade away. I forgot how much I loved to create, to use my hands to build something. For a while, nothing else matters. One of my nicer owners, a younger woman, was a potter. She had taught me once. Taught me how to create, carve, and glaze. I had nearly forgotten. It was so long ago.

When it was shaped how I wanted, I began to carve. I knew what I wanted. I don’t know how long I work but the finished product is perfect. The panther stares back at me, reminding me so much of Yoongi. I had decided on a coffee cup after watching him down multiple ups at breakfast this morning. Taehyung helps me place mine in the kiln alongside Jimin’s rose.

“It should be ready in the morning. You can come up and help me glaze them after dinner, if you want,” Taehyung’s tone is a little shy,” Where did you learn pottery?”

“One of my various owners. She was a potter. She passed in an accident and her mother sold me to a new owner,” I keep my voice casual,” She was my favorite.”

“He’ll love it, you know,” Jimin’s arm wraps around my shoulder,” He may pretend otherwise but he’ll love it.”

“Yeah, Yoongi is a big softie. He just looks tough,” Taehyung’s voice is teasing.

“Lets go watch a movie,” Jimin suggests suddenly,” I wanna cuddle.”

“I’m picking then,” Taehyung shoots off down the stairs.

Sitting on the couch nestled between Jimin and Taehyung is warm and comfortable. Jimin’s head is in my lap while I play with his hair. Taehyung’s arm is wrapped around my waist, his head on my shoulder. His ears tickle my jaw. Treasure Planet flashes on the tv.

Having an Omega near me brings me a comfort I’ve never known. I have never spent time around other Omegas. Before I was on suppressants, my heats were usually handled by Alphas or Betas. Or, sometimes, humans, but I hadn’t had a heat in years. I should probably talk to Jin about that at some point.

About halfway through the movie, it becomes obvious that Jimin has dozed off. Soft purrs leave him every so often and he’s rolled onto his back. Asleep, his face drops into an almost pouty expression. He’s much cuter like this, when he isn’t, seemingly, causing chaos with Taehyung.

“Can I scent you?” Taehyung’s voice is quiet and a little bit nervous. His nerves makes me shy.

“Y-yes,” I swallow, suddenly aware of everything happening around me. I hadn’t been scented by anyone but Yoongi so I wasn’t sure what to expect.

My head tilts to the side as his nose presses to my scent gland. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. We stay there for a while, him just taking in my scent. It suddenly makes me wonder what I smell like. You can’t smell your own scent, your brain filters it out before you even process it. Plus, your scent is more complex to your mates, something unique and satisfying to your senses. You even smell different to your different mates.

“Taehyung-“ I stop myself, a little embarrassed.

“You can call me Tae, you know,” I can feel his lips move against my neck, setting my nerve endings on fire.

“What do I smell like to you?” My teeth dig into my bottom lip nervously. This feels like an intimate conversation, but Jimin could wake up at any moment. I still don’t fully understand this whole mate thing. Not in a way that makes any rational sense. The concept of mates isn’t supposed to be rational, I suppose, but I feel like I’m not emotionally set up to be able to process it yet.

“Honeysuckle on a summer breeze,” His voice is almost nostalgic as he says it,” Combined with the scent Yoongi has left on you, it’s nearly enough to drive someone crazy.”

For a while, we sit like that, Taehyung scenting me while Jimin naps with his head in my lap. His version of scenting is different from Yoongi’s. Yoongi was gentle and soft while Taehyung is much more enthusiastic and forward. With Taehyung, I can feel how much my scent affects him. He’s much more open than Yoongi, at least when it comes to emotions. His teeth nip my scent gland, catching me off guard. All my breath leaves me in a rush.

“We’re home!” Taehyung pulls away with a huff, seemingly annoyed by our interruption. Hoseok comes around the corner, a couple bags in his hand. Yoongi trails in behind him, carrying more bags. They have brands from various clothing stores on them.

“Go help Jungkook unload. If you’re fast, it can be done before dinner,” Yoongi gives Taehyung a point look,” Wake Jimin up. He said he would help.”

“I’ll wake him up. You can go help Jungkook,” I give Taehyung a warm smile. He presses a quick kiss to my cheek, catching me off guard, before scrambling off to help Jungkook. I shake Jimin’s shoulder gently. He doesn’t stir,” Jiminie, it’s time to wake up.”

His eyes open at my words, his mouth forming a small, pouty circle. He just stares up at me for a minute, sleep still weighing heavily on his eyelids. We sit there for a few moments, his trying to wake up from his nap and me sitting captive under his head. He finally sits up, turning to face me for a moment.

“Say my name again,” His words are so forward, they catch me off guard.

“J-Jimin,” I answer without thinking. He offers me a sweet smile.

“Call me Jiminie,” With that, he’s gone, lopping off after Taehyung. It takes me a moment to clear my confusion and look over to see Yoongi and Hoseok still there. I blush, look away again, my hands knotting together.

“We got you some more clothes. I know Omega’s can be particular about clothing materials so I figured you could try them on and make sure there isn’t anything that needs to be returned or exchanged,” Hoseok holds up his hands, displaying the bags. I try not to look shocked at some of the brands I see on the bags. I had noticed that they seem to wear higher ends clothes but I didn’t think much of it at the time.

“Those are all for me?” I had never had any of my owners buy me clothes like this. I mean, they’re required to provide clothing but it was usually a week’s worth, at most.

“Lets just use the bathroom down here. I’m tired of carrying these bags,” Yoongi sets the bags at his feet.

“Hyung,” Hoseok whines,” We were gonna use my room because I have a full length mirror.”

“Then go get it,” Yoongi shrugs and sits next to me on the couch, pulling me into his arms. Hoseok rolls his eyes and heads up the stairs. I snuggle into his chest, letting out a content chirp.

“I missed you,” My words seem to catch us both off guard, Yoongi seeming to freeze. I blush again.

“I missed you too,” He says after a moment, humming and resting his head on top of mine. We separate, somewhat reluctantly, after Hoseok comes back downstairs lugging a tall mirror.

The next few hours make me feel like a doll playing dress up. Three piles are made: keep, exchange, and return. Yoongi seems very intune with my body language so I don’t have to verbalize if a certain material makes me uncomfortable. Most of the clothes are comfortable and the keep pile is by far the tallest. Dresses, jeans, shorts, t-shirts, button ups. Any kind of clothing imaginable. They had even thought to get me undergarments, though I chose not to question how they figured out my size.

The last dress takes my breath away. It’s a gorgeous emerald green dress with an open back, chains dangling between the shoulder blades. It feels much too nice for someone like me. Something for a fancy party, or a ball, or a fairytale. The silhouette is sleek and beautiful. No piece of clothing has ever made me feel this way. I’m almost nervous to show it to them. It doesn’t feel like I belong in this gown.

“Is everything okay?” Hoseok’s voice outside of the bathroom door wakes me from my stupor.

“I’m fine,” I say hastily, opening the door to see him standing right in front of me. One of my hands plays with the silky material,” I just-“

My words drop off at the expression on his face. He moves aside silently, allowing me space to walk to the mirror. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin seem to have finished whatever task they were completing, as they have joined Yoongi on the couch. I feel nervous under all these eyes. I can’t look at any of them, my hands wringing together nervously. No one says anything.

“Do I look okay?” My words shake almost as much as I am. It almost feels like anxiety has burrowed into my chest. I didn’t realize until this moment that I wanted them to like me. Wanted to think I was pretty or beautiful or that I was important to them. Without realizing, I’m staring holes into the carpet again. Fingers gently close on my chin, lifting my head to meet a pair of dark eyes. They belong to Hoseok.

“You’re beautiful,” Hoseok’s voice is husky and sends my heart pounding, for some reason,” Don’t doubt yourself.”

“This feels like such a fancy dress. Doesn’t it seem a bit excessive? When would I have an occasion to wear it?” I decide that changing the subject would be best for saving my heart from beating right out of my chest.

“We have to go to dinner parties and the such sometimes,” Yoongi says casually, though his eyes haven’t left me once since I walked out.

“I’m sure we could make a reason if we need to,” Jungkook’s tone is joking,” You’re definitely keeping that one.”

My face bright with a blush, I return to the bathroom to change back into the clothes I started in. I bring the dress out to Hoseok, who quickly adds it to the keep pile. I help him bag up the rejects and exchanges, despite his protests. It doesn’t take long to organize it with two people. I hadn’t realized Yoongi had disappeared until I could smell food coming from the kitchen. By that point, Hoseok and I had finished and the four boys were in some debate about soccer that I couldn’t follow. I wander into the kitchen, following my nose, to find Yoongi at the counter, hard at work.

“Hi,” my voice disappears into his back as I softly wrap my arms around his waist, my cheek pressing to his back. He puts down his knife and turns in my arms, hugging me back for a moment before lifting me up and setting me on the counter next to him.

“Hi Kitten,” His voice is warm as he turns back to his chopping. I watch him for a while in comfortable silence. It’s easy to be around Yoongi. I don’t have to think about what I say. He’s a comfortable sort of person, seemingly happy to just let other people exist in his silence.

He obviously knows his way around the kitchen as he makes some sort of pasta dish. He makes a couple of sides as well. Occasionally, he would silently offer me bites of food, letting me be his taste tester. It wasn’t until I tried the first bite that I realized how hungry I was. Taehyung, Jimin, and I had ended up skipping lunch without realizing it. Too busy in our own little world to notice the passing time.

By the time he’s finished, Jin and Namjoon have also returned. We all sit down to dinner, in the same seats as before. I’m nestled between Hoseok and Yoongi, Jimin across from me. This time, before I can move, Yoongi makes my plate for me. He returns it to me before making his own. Yoongi seems to be the type to take care of you in quiet ways. He doesn’t boast that he doing it for you, he just does it without thinking.

“We have a surprise for you,” Jin is the first one to speak. My eyes widen, not prepared for that one. Yoongi takes my hand and I follow all the boys upstairs.

They lead me to a room. I try to remember the directions. Upstairs, left, then the last door on the left. When they open the door, it’s the colors that catch my attention first. The walls are white but the furniture is mahogany with dark green bedding and yellow accents throughout the room. The bed is a king, just as big as Yoongi’s massive bed. More space than one person will ever need on a bed. There’s a carpet spread across the floor, soft and warm on my toes. At some point, Hoseok must have brought the clothes upstairs and put them in the closet.

“We thought you might like to have a room of your own,” Jimin’s voice is bright and chipper. He runs over to a massive wardrobe,” There are tons of nesting blankets and stuffed animals in here. We found ones that look like us and scented them for you. Thought it might make you feel more comfortable since I know how hard it is for an Omega to settle in a new home.”

“This is…. All for me?” I can’t stop my eyes from welling with tears. I’ve never had a space that didn’t also belong to someone else.

“We also have another room set aside for your that you can turn into whatever you want. It’s on the other end of the house,” Namjoon is the furthest away from me, behind the group.

“It’s like Taehyung’s art studio. Namjoon has a library. Jungkook has a gym,” Jimin ticks off his fingers,” Everyone’s room is different.”

“We wanted you to have your own space here. Somewhere that felt like home,” Hoseok offers me a bright smile,” It was Yoongi’s idea.”

Yoongi blushes and won’t meet my eyes, his ears red. It makes me warm that they want me to feel like I have a home. We talk and visit for a while but soon, everyone begins to disperse to get ready for the evening. I decide to build myself a quick nest, leaving the more advanced nest for the morning. When I turn around, I’m shocked to see Yoongi still there, leaning casually against the wall, two coffee cups in hand. He offers me one. Inside is some steaming hot chocolate.

“I just wanted to come say good night,” His ears are a little pink.

“Good night, Yoon,” The nickname slips out without much thought. His ears become even pinker.

“Want me to tuck you in?” His tone is a little more teasing this time, trying to cover up his own embarrassment.

“I think I can manage,” I blush a little,” Can I have a hug though?”

He opens his arms and I practically jump into them. I nuzzle my face into his chest, purring. His scent wraps around me, releasing any tension I might have had. His cheek rests on the top of my head. I try to build up my courage. It’s just a few words but they feel so hard.

“Yoongi, will you stay with me tonight?” The words are spoken into his chest, my arms wrapped around him tightly.

“Of course, Kitten,” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. We cuddle in bed together, my nest built around us. I’ve never felt so comfortable in another person’s presence. He feels like home. Not this room, not anything else. Just him.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Chapter Three coming soon!